Natural Disturbances
by Galbinus-Rayquaza
Summary: Giovanni has obtained absolute control of two legendary Pokemon, and promptly proceeds on a prophesied world domination rampage. Unfortunately, he fails to recognize that doing so will upset the balance of power among the four regions... Pairings inside.
1. Beginnings

**Disclaimer: Well, I own Pokemon in my dreams, does that count:P No, I don't own Pokemon. However, I do own the plot, and I hope it harbors some original twists, however plain it might appear in the beginning.**

**The MAIN Love Triangles or Squares (read to know exactly what ships you're going to be facing!):  
Drew x May x Brendan (chp.1 forwards)  
Paul x Dawn x Tyson (the blond rival in D/P) OR Paul x Dawn x Kenny OR Kenny x Dawn x Tyson (you get my drift, no?) (chp.4 forwards)  
Jimmy x Marina x Silver (rival from G/S/C) x Turquoise (heroine from FR/LG) (chp. 6 forwards)**

**Simply pairings:  
Ash x Gary (BITE ME POKESHIPPERS. I tried Pokeshipping. Didn't work out. And I apologize for sounding like a total hypocrite) (chp.2 forwards)  
Misty x Brock (chp. 4 forwards)**

**_Very light_** **to light hints of:  
Oldrivalshipping  
Waterflowershipping  
Berryshipping  
Pokeshipping**

**Unlike my other story, I know exactly what is going to happen in this (at least an outline), and this story does not agree with some facts from my other, so please do not judge each against the other.**

**If you spot a problem please inform me of it pronto. (:**

**Newly Introduced Main to Side Human Characters in This Chapter (Order of Appearance):  
Steven Stone  
Mimi (OC)  
Ciaa (OC)  
Brendan Birch  
May Maple  
Max Maple  
Caroline Maple  
Norman Maple  
Wally Winter  
Drew Rosalind  
Giovanni**

**Well, I hope you find this to be an interesting journey!**

**Ancient Cave, Somewhere in Sinnoh**

"Here we are," The voice, deep and masculine, reverberated off the damp and aged cave walls, as three figures, each varying in size and shape, walked down a small, wet path, their shadows flickering on the wall alit by a torch the foremost and smallest figure carried.

The three stopped in front of a large, terracotta wall—paintings and odd symbols were on it, blurring out in many places. However, the horrible quality of the wall paintings did not deter the middle figure; excitably, with silky black hair swinging around in a ponytail, she reached out her right index finger to alight very gently on a rune.

"It's just what we're looking for, Mr. Stone," The girl whispered, her voice betraying a middle teenaged age and much excitement and anxiety. The largest figure nodded, gray hair framing an angular face.

"Read for us, then, please." The ex-Champion said, crouching down to better observe some of the lower runes.

"I'll try my best," The girl gulped, and then began as she ran her finger over the vaguely most wall and Pokemon shapes that only barely resembled letters. "'It is'—I can't read this part, oh wait, here we go again—'after the Second Hoenn Crisis, another will'—gosh! Stupid Zubat must've killed off this part—'but this occurring in'—ouch, this part fell off—'and this crisis will be even greater and more artificial than the last.'"

Pausing, the black-haired girl exchanged nervous looks with the younger girl and the ex-Champion before continuing, "'And the conquerer will be unstoppable in'—this part's faded."

"We have to leave at once," Steven Stone declared, gathering up his rucksack and started walking towards the mouth of the cave, the two girls striding behind him.

**Gym Leader's House, Petalburg, Hoenn**

"And now, we present Brendan Birch of Littleroot!" A high female voice shouted above the deafening roar of the crowd; a few moments later, the orange-haired Master of Ceremony had bounced off the stage to make space for the figure that entered another few moments later.

Emerging from the shadows, the lean teenager suavely stepped onto the stage, the soft glare of the spotlight illuminating his already seemingly glowing features. His shock of spiky silver hair had been brushed down earlier in the morning so that tufts of it fell into his startlingly sanguine eyes; however, he still preserved the black headband marked with a red Pokeball print that stretched across his forehead. His skin was abnormally pale, and under the lamplight it emanated an air of formidability that perfectly amplified his already intimidating countenance. The audience cheered loudly for the new arrival, although they had not seen or heard of him before.

Many miles away from the Slateport Contest Hall, water had spurted out of a particular girl's mouth, landing all over the television screen through which she had been viewing the Contest. Quickly wiping her light cherry lips and the TV screen, the teenaged girl brushed mousy locks out of her face before blinking twice and staring again; _'BRENDAN?'_Even as Maybelline Sapphire Maple immediately began denying what she saw, the Coordinator on the screen was supremely undisturbed. He reached for a Pokeball clipped onto the dandelion belt that stretched across his waist, and flung it into the air. Many eyes followed the Pokeball's movements as it enlarged and its translucent red hood sprang open, releasing chalky vapor and a liquid-like beam of wine-red light that landed on the wooden floor, solidifying into an elongated figure.

As the mist cleared, the light left the Pokemon and it was then revealed the Tender Pokemon's true identity. Glitter, perhaps remnants of a 'Recover', or perhaps the aftereffects of an 'Ice Beam', but most likely simply byproducts of the Pokemon, the very embodiment of beauty, radiated from her long body. Audible gasps were heard throughout the entire auditorium; even May gasped—she certainly had not expected Brendan to obtain such a prestigious Pokemon, although she did not put it behind him.

Undeterred by the reactions of the crowd, the Water Pokemon continued swaying her iridescent cerulean-scaled tail—flecked in various parts with tender pink and darker cobalt—and tilted her serpentine head slightly upwards, allowing the horn protruding out of her head to touch the back of her lengthy, slender neck.

"Milotic, Water Pulse." Brendan said, his voice gentle and reflective of his Pokemon's nature. Without a moment of hesitation, the Tender Pokemon complied; she raised her head even higher, fully exposing her neck, and proceeded to fire a ray of aqua towards the ceiling. The water-typed move hit the ceiling without much difficulty, then as if demonstrating the opposite of gravity, expanded in the same way it would have had it hit the ground. The crowd began murmuring in amazement, and Brendan used this time to smirk.

May's eyes widened, impressed, but before she could call her brother over to watch with her, the Milotic on screen had already intensified the 'Water Pulse', causing light blue to morph speedily into a fierce white. It was a wonder that the Coordinator nor his Pokemon was not drenched in water; thankfully, neither was the audience. The MC seemed to jerk to her senses, and she commentated, "Coordinator Brendan has ordered his Milotic to use a 'Water Pulse' attack—and here's the twist, on the ceiling? Although we certainly don't know his true motives in ordering his Pokemon to do so, the appeal so far is rather dazzling and we're sure Brendan has some tricks up his sleeve."

At the MC's praise, Brendan merely widened his smirk and snapped his left fingers. His move, apparently a signal of some sort, caused his Pokemon to immediately cease the 'Water Pulse'; most then looked as though they assumed his appeal was over, and this was indeed what May thought. However, by causing a sphere of semi-transparent indigo light to form in front of her barely open mouth a fraction of a second later, the Milotic denied all of this by firing an 'Ice Beam' attack straight on top of her 'Water Pulse'.

Expectedly, the Ice-typed attack froze the Water-typed one; but what was unexpected was that the frozen sculpture of ice did not collapse onto the floor as one might expect it to do so; instead, it stuck determinedly to the ceiling, and after May had gotten over her brief bout of breathlessness (and so did the crowd) she noticed that the frozen 'Water Pulse' had formed a floral shape on the ceiling—at the center, it caved in, then spread out like a wave; in fact, she was almost certain it resembled a giant flower of some sort.

The MC was speechless; too were the three judges seated at the very back of the stage. Brendan, however, seemed to have anticipated this and instead nodded quietly to his Pokemon, who in turn snaked back to her Coordinator. The ice began to melt just as it began to fall to the ground, losing its initial stickiness that might have came from the sudden freeze. As a result, the iced 'Water Pulse' landed on the ground like rain. After another moment of utter silence, the audience began clapping and shouting compliments raucously as the MC proceeded to commentate, "Well, it certainly seems that this Coordinator has completely absorbed the secrets of the two moves—quite simplistic upon reflection but nevertheless stylish—and demonstrated that to us today! Thank you, Brendan!"

May, unaware that she was not in the Contest Hall and instead in Petalburg, also began clapping along with the crowd as Brendan bowed down, then exited the stage. A certain blue-haired boy was attracted by his sister's fervent shouts, and came to check on what she was doing by way of squirting water in her face with his water gun.

Suddenly jerking back to reality, May sprang out of her chair, hair plastered to her skin and red bandana drenched thoroughly. Her sapphire eyes glistened with an unpronounced rage; Max, sensing imminent danger, scrammed. His sister, however, did not stop in her chase—shrieking loudly, she chased him all around their house, shouting, "Max! You'll pay for that! I am going to throttle you for that!"

The blue-haired preteen boy almost cracked his glasses tripping up the stairs; in any case, he landed painfully on his face, and his arms gave a pathetic sort of twitch before falling to the ground. May snorted derisively, in a served-you-right sort of way before Max pulled himself to his feet and readjusted his spectacles so that they were not falling off of his nose.

"God, May, ever since we've been to Johto you've been becoming progressively faster," Max groaned, rubbing his temple. May smiled childishly at first, believing his brother's words to be a compliment, but then he finished the sentence. "Must be because we've had to dash around from Hall to Hall since you oversleep so much."

"Hey!" May shouted, thwacking her brother on his arm. A large red handprint was emblazoned onto the ten-year-old's skin, and he gave a small howl. Unfortunately for the fourteen-year-old Coordinator, her parents, who had just stepped through the door, had heard Max's cry of anguish.

"May, don't hurt your little brother." May's mother, Caroline, said gently, rubbing her son's arm in a matronly sort of way. May began huffing in exaggerated indignation—she knew her mother did not take Max all that seriously—but still was angry that her mother had put on such a show. Max, taking advantage of his limelight, stuck his tongue out at his sister who in turn stuck her tongue out back at him.

Her father's loud and deep voice came roiling around the curve of the staircase, "Mayy, someone's at the door."

The Coordinator instantly forgot her small fight with her brother at her father's, the Gym Leader of Petalburg, mention of visitors. Screeching excitably and girlishly, May ran back down the stairs and to the front door as her father walked by him, wearing a large, secretive smile on his face. Upon seeing her father's expression, the Coordinator began wondering what it was that caused Norman to do that, but she soon discovered as she saw two particular boys, one white-haired and the other golden-green-haired, at the door.

"BRENDAN! WALLY!" May shouted, her voice louder than ever. Under any other circumstances, the two boys undoubtedly would have recoiled under such a display of volume, but they were far too glad to see their old friend to voice their uncomfortable feelings. The brown-haired Coordinator embraced both of her friends separately, squeezing them each to the point of suffocation. "It's been too long!" Quickly, she noted that Brendan had ditched his usual attire of black-and-red-printed jacket and black water-proof pants in place of a simple white T-shirt and jeans—Wally however preserved his usual long-sleeved white shirt and long green jeans. Both were clutching packages.

"Yeah," Brendan agreed, tentatively stepping inside his friend's house, his voice not betraying his own restless feelings. Wally, the less subtle of the two, bounced inside happily, in a way that was not reflective of his poor state of health. May closed the door behind her two friends and immediately erupted in a combined frenzy of questions and greetings.  
"So where have you been all these years? Did you enter any Leagues? Wally, how has your health been? Brendan, what other Pokemon did you get besides from Mudkip? Wally, what Pokemon did you get? Can we battle? Have a round of appeals? Brendan, I saw your Contest on TV! You never told me you wanted to be a Coordinator!" May finished, breathing heavily afterwards. Brendan watched her with a bemused expression as Wally began deciphering her words.

The golden-green-haired Trainer's white-haired friend beat him to the punch, though. "We traveled together over Hoenn first, then Wally went to Kanto and I went to Sinnoh. We both entered the Hoenn League and then Wally challenged the Kanto one and I challenged Sinnoh. I've caught lots of Pokemon since then! In fact, I've finished most of the Hoenn and Sinnoh Pokedex after lots of Training. Wally here seems to only want to raise green-colored Pokemon, though, and he's got his hands on most of them. Of course we can battle, just need to decide when, where, and who with who. Round of appeals, sure. Well, I'm telling you now, am I?" With his last sentence, Brendan gave a roguish sort of wink with a confident quality that May knew had been lacking in him when he was starting out; his action, however, had unexpectedly caused May's cheeks to redden a little, although it was not easily detected by the normal eye.

Wally nodded, confirming Brendan's story as May squealed again. Hyperactively jumping up and down, her bangs fluttering upwards and downwards with each bounce, she shouted needlessly energetically, "Oh my god, oh my god! I haven't seen you two, in like, four years!" A longing expression overcame May.

"Yeah," Wally said in amazement, tottering backwards dangerously. His white-haired friend, however, caught him in time and seated him firmly on a stool, finding one for himself as well. After coughing a bit, Wally urged the brown-haired Coordinator, "Go on, please. We'd like to hear about what you did."

Brendan groaned inwardly—knowing May, she'd probably launch into a melodramatic story about her previous three years of life. Not that he'd really mind, it was just that he feared a little for his sanity.

"Well, you're both, what a few months older than me," May started, and Brendan and Wally gave cautious nods, "So I just moped around the house after that for a while until it was my birthday—speaking of which, is coming up!—until it was my turn to go to Prof—I mean, Brendan's dad's. I got a Torchic, since Treeko's creepy and the other Mudkip doesn't seem to like me much, and then I met this guy named Ash," and here her elaborated story seemed to generalize, as if she were speaking of a rather painful experience, "and then Max insisted on coming,"—from somewhere near the staircase of the house, a 'hey!' was heard—"and then Ash said he wanted to go challenge gyms and I didn't really know what to do, much, so I just tagged along with him and Pewter City's ex-Gym Leader, Brock,"—Wally and Brendan gave nods of recognition—"and then I met this Coordinator and I decided I wanted to be a Coordinator, too,"—Brendan smiled a little—"and then I met this other Coordinator named Drew,"—as May's face reddened slightly, Brendan frowned but Wally was oblivious to this—"and then I met this gender-confused weirdo named Harley who's always trying to destroy me,"—both Brendan and Wally were at a loss for words—"and then I won five ribbons and entered the Hoenn Grand Festival,"—Wally and Brendan both gasped in surprise—"but then I lost to Drew,"—May's friends nodded sympathetically—"and then we went to Kanto and again I got five ribbons and entered the Grand Festival again and I won Drew but lost to this pink-haired Coordinator named Solidad,"—Brendan gave a muffled 'huh' of recognition, but May and Wally did not seem to notice—"and then I went to Johto with Drew,"—Brendan frowned noticeably, but Wally was the only one who witnessed this—"and then I nabbed second place after beating Solidad and Harley, then losing to Drew." She finished with a triumphant grin and looked at her stunned friends. "So what did you do?"

Wally started first. "Well, at first we traveled together after Brendan helped me catch a Ralts, then I found a Treeko and caught it, but after Brendan beat Roxanne and I lost to her, we split ways. I'm not quite sure about Brendan but then I caught a Shroomish,"—Brendan nodded expectantly and May nodded as well—"then I beat the rest of the gyms but then I got sick and couldn't enter the Hoenn League, and Brendan heard and he didn't enter too,"—May smiled sadly in a sympathetic sort of way, and at the same time her heart swelled with pride for Brendan's actions—"then I decided I wanted to become a Breeder so I stayed in Hoenn." Finishing his story, he turned towards Brendan who started his.

"I started out with Wally as he has so kindly illustrated, but then he did not manage to defeat Roxanne and I moved on to Dewford, hitching a ride on some old guy's boat. After defeating all the gyms and catching four more Pokemon besides from Swampert, I decided to go to Sinnoh, which I did, and I met a most interesting Pokemon, but that's beside the point. Then after beating all of Sinnoh's gyms, I challenged the League there and nabbed second place, and since then I've been working on my Pokedex for my dad." Brendan finished simply, May marveling at his achievements, although she felt that her own were of good competition.

"Oh… wow… that's quite impressive." May remarked, nodding her heads as she reeled back in contemplation.

"Thanks," Brendan and Wally said at the same time. The white-haired Trainer then brought his package into view, and the golden-green-haired Trainer did the same. May's eyes glinted with surprise and delight, and without saying anything she grabbed both presents out of her friends' hands.

Ripping the packaging off of Brendan's gift first—and completely oblivious to the slightly pained expression on the white-haired Trainer's face as May tore open his carefully wrapped present—the brown-haired Coordinator gaped, mesmerized, as she stared at it. It was a sleeveless red vest with a white zipper running through the middle and a rubbery-looking black collar that perfectly complemented her red bandana and put shame to her original outfit, incidentally also of Brendan's design six years ago, before he had set off on his journey. Folding the vest in mid-air and placing it carefully on her lap, May continued to rummage through Brendan's present, finding a green bandana with a white Pokeball print as well as an emerald variant of her current bag, and sleek black shorts that shone with the smallest fleck of light.

"Wow, thank you so much!" May beamed, hugging her white-haired friend whose ridiculously pale skin turned a shade of delicate pink that was, thankfully, not seen by anybody except for May's Skitty who happened to be running around the house at the time, being chased by Norman's rather angry Vigoroth.

"Well, I wanted to get you a blue version of the outfit as well, but I decided to save that for some other day," Brendan said, grinning cheekily as May eventually pulled away. May nodded understandingly and then ripped open Wally's present without another word nor thought, much to the golden-green-haired Breeder's dismay.

"Wow!" May gasped as she pulled Wally's present to the light—it was an exquisite statue of a Gardevoir that no doubt took a very long time to carve. She quickly placed it on a high counter so that Skitty could not knock it over, like she had recently did the Ralts statue that Wally had given her years ago. It was obvious that her golden-green-haired artistically talented friend had advanced in expertise, and May was now certain he was going places. "It's soo realistic! Even though I don't have a Gardevoir, and thus have nothing to compare it to, but hey, at least there's Max's Kirlia."

"Thanks." Wally said, blushing scarlet at May's praise. He then pondered for a moment, and said, "I wish I could show you my Gardevoir, but I left her at the Day Care to breed with Brendan's Gallade."

"A Gallade, huh? That's a Sinnoh Pokemon, right?" May inquired, looking at Brendan, who nodded. "Max's Kirlia is male, and Max doesn't really want to evolve him into a Gardevoir…"

"Yes. The only Pokemon I'm missing from my 'Dex is," Brendan paused to think, "Ah, all the legendaries—as if I can actually catch them!—and, oddly enough, the Eevee evolutions. I only have a male one, and I can't seem to get my hands on a female one."

May's eyes glistened happily as she supplied helpfully, "I have a female Eevee, perhaps we could breed them?"

"Really? Dad would be so happy after I complete the Pokedex!" Brendan exclaimed, forgetting the fact that he was male and jumping up and down imitative of May. Wally watched apprehensively as his friends launched into a most unmanly hyperactive bout of giggles. After it gradually subsided though, Brendan seemed to remember what he had done and coughed loudly; as if to make up for his appalling display, he leaned against the wall with all the masculinity he could master—considering his overall lean and somewhat gangly build the feat was managed relatively easily.

"How about a battle now?" Brendan asked suggestively, raising an eyebrow. Wally leapt to his feet and May punched the air with her fist to signify her agreement.

With that, the brown-haired Trainer streaked outside of the house, bouncing into the late spring air and finding a patch of lawn immediately outside that she was quite sure her parents wanted trimmed anyways. Brendan and Wally, bewildered expressions etched onto their faces, could only follow suit, both looking startled by her sudden eagerness to battle. Brendan looked as if he was thinking about something, but his train of thought was interrupted as May yelled again, "Come on! Brendan, you first!"

"Okay then," Brendan said, pulling out a well-polished Pokeball from his side pocket that gleamed in the light. Then, he added hesitantly, "But I've only brought one Pokemon." Saying that, he placed his package on the ground.

"That's okay!" May assured him, stepping backwards to clear a few yards, bringing a total of ten between her and the boys. "I'll only use one Pokemon, too!" Saying that, she reached into the dandelion bag strapped across her waist, pulling out a Pokeball of her own, and tossed it into the air. An expected beam of red light rocketed out of the Pokeball as its hood opened, forming a tall and somewhat humanoid figure on the ground that quickly solidified into May's Blaziken.

"Wow, so you really did go on a Pokemon journey," Brendan said in admiration, flinging his own Pokeball into the air. "You were always quite scared of my Mudkip." The Mud Fish Pokemon in question was now forming on the ground, except it had evolved into its last evolution of Swampert. The large monster-like Pokemon opened his curved mouth, letting out a low bellow that seemed to boost his own spirits.

May's Blaziken, too, chirped loudly and in a much higher voice that Brendan's Swampert did. Wally stood nearby, watching with amazed eyes, apparently lost in thought. Brendan indicated Wally, clearing telling him to judge for the two. The green-haired boy hurried to his feet, then declared formally, "Um, Brendan's Swampert versus May's Blaziken. The battle now commences!"

"All right, Blaziken! Let's start things off with a Blaze Kick!" May shouted, in her eagerness slashing at the air with her own right leg. The Fire Pokemon easily understood, and his right leg burst into flame—the Blaziken charged recklessly at his opponent, who stood rooted to the spot, anticipating the blow as Brendan did not give an order.

Blaziken's attack hit Swampert on his arm as he raised it to protect his face from being burned. The 'Blaze Kick' was not very effective, however, but it managed to temporarily burn Brendan's Swampert. Then, with all the wisdom of a Pokemon Master, the white-haired Trainer opened his mouth and said, "'Ice Beam' now!"

May did not have time to bark a "dodge"—even if she had, Blaziken would be unable to avoid it at such close proximity. A beam of cerulean light shot speedily out of Swampert's mouth, hitting the Blaziken straight on the leg that was previously using 'Blaze Kick'. The attack immediately froze the Blaziken's leg, and chirping feebly the Fighting-typed Pokemon wobbled back.

"Blaziken!" May cried worriedly, as Brendan and Swampert watched with calculating eyes and Wally stifled a shriek. The Coordinator's first instinct was to hurry forward, but she caught herself in time and instead struck on a composed pose and ordered, "Try to melt it with another 'Blaze Kick'!"  
Her Blaziken obeyed, once again firing up his 'Blaze Kick' leg. Instead of attacking Swampert, however, the Fire-typed Pokemon's only objective was to defrost his leg—and defrost it did, although cold water now clung to his leg, denying any future possibilities of another 'Blaze Kick' attack.

Brendan's pale lips curled into a smirk as his Swampert gave a low rumble of victory. May turned determinedly to face the white-haired Trainer, and shouted enthusiastically, "This isn't over yet! Blaziken, 'Sky Uppercut'!"  
Blaziken once again obeyed, and thrust a glowing fist at Swampert's partially exposed underbelly, bringing the Mud Fish Pokemon into the air. Brendan's smirk turned into a frown, but thinking quickly he commanded, "Swampert, 'Muddy Water'!"

A brown jet of fast-moving water shot out of the Swampert's open mouth, drenching Blaziken from head to toe. "Blaze!" The Fire-typed Pokemon yelped, plummeting towards the ground. May opened her mouth to speak, but before she could order her Blaziken to do anything, Brendan had already barked a command at his Swampert.

"Dynamic Punch now!" He shouted, his voice rising with excitement and the familiar confidence someone is buffeted with when triumph is within grasp. And had May bothered to watch his Swampert perform the killing blow, perhaps she would have had time to command a retaliating 'Sky Uppercut'—but she didn't. Instead, her attention was only on the expression on Brendan's face; such passion she had never seen or felt before—the already angular features on the white-haired Trainer's face was sharpened to pinpoint precision, and May could not help but marvel that he could display such zeal.

However, when she did tear her eyes off of Brendan's face, she noticed her Blaziken laying motionless on the ground except for the occasional twitch of brown claws and Brendan's Swampert standing over his fallen opponent, looking very much satisfied and proud, mirroring his Trainer's expression as he returned the Mud Fish Pokemon. May could only concede defeat and return her Blaziken, whose body filled with red light and was then sucked back into the Pokeball.

"Umm… right! Brendan won and May lost." Wally said quickly. Then, before he could restrain himself, he commented, "That was a pretty fast battle."

May, a little hurt by her green-golden-haired friend's words and even more dismayed by the fact that it was completely true, had no choice but to defend her position. "Well, I was distracted!" She argued, crossing her arms over her chest and huffing indignantly.

"By what?" Brendan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"By—by—argh!" May cried in anguish, flinging her hands up into the air. 'If I told them, they'd just laugh at me!' She thought pitifully to herself, and could then only sigh.

"Well obviously then, I won because of my superior battling skills," The white-haired Trainer said jokingly, striking a comical winning pose. His joke, however bad it might have been, succeeded in cheering May up and causing Wally to emit a small laugh.

"Right, you did," May said, playing along. A moment of silence followed in which all three held each other's gazes, before they all began to laugh at the same time. After a while, though, after the last few giggles were choked out and any tears wiped, the brown-haired Coordinator suddenly noticed someone at the gate. Straightening up from her previous crouch from laughing so hard, she noticed that it was a particular green-haired teenager, frowning at the three on the grass.

"Drew!" May shouted, her spirits raising even higher, if that was physically possible—bouncing up, she hurried to greet the composed Coordinator. Garbed in his usual outfit of long-sleeved black shirt, short-sleeved lavender jacket, and turquoise jeans, Drew smiled knowingly and nodded in greeting.

The green-haired Coordinator, however, was not prepared as May almost caused him to fall backwards with a giant hug. His voice muffled, he said, "I'm glad to see you too."

May ended the embrace and asked breathlessly, "Why did you come to Petalburg? I thought you were going to Slateport for another Contest." Brendan and Wally got up from their sitting positions, and the former frowned as he watched May talk to Drew.

"That's because I received a Call from Ash," Drew said smugly, flicking a strand of green hair as Brendan snarled in contempt, "and he said he couldn't contact you, and for me to tell you to meet him and apparently, 'everyone else', in Pallet Town. He also said to bring anyone who you wanted to bring." At this, he raised an eyebrow suggestively, as May smiled at the news.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Brendan butted in, unable to stand Drew anymore. It then became obvious that the two were of identical height, but different build—Drew was noticeably more muscular than Brendan, although Drew did not qualify as an extremely muscular person, and Brendan noticeably leaner.

May opened her mouth to introduce everyone, but was cut off once again as Drew said in his silkiest voice, which was infuriatingly silky, "Drew Rosalind. And you would be?"

"Brendan Birch." The white-haired Trainer said proudly and somewhat naively, his seeming confidence masking his growing disdain towards Drew. Simply the arrogant way the green-haired Coordinator carried himself was enough to make the albino want to gnash his teeth.

"Son of the esteemed Professor Birch?" Drew asked, his voice hinting at disbelief.

"Yeah, that'd be me." Brendan answered defiantly, his tone of voice only amplified as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I see." Drew said patronizingly, tilting his head a little higher—and at this Brendan glared, but May simply carried on.

"Brendan, Drew! Drew, Brendan! I'm the one who should've made introductions!" She giggled somewhat nervously; however dense she was she still detected a gist of dislike each pored towards the other, "Erm, so Brendan, this is Drew, I've mentioned him before, I think, and Drew, this is Brendan, I don't think I've ever mentioned him."

Brendan was miffed that his brown-haired friend neglected to tell anyone of his existence, but he blamed it mostly on her forgetfulness and reluctance to drag up the past. He recalled her being angry when he had left, abandoning her in Petalburg for Rustboro with his Mudkip trotting along by his side. However, the white-haired Trainer was glad that such feelings were erased over time, but looking at the smirk on Drew's face Brendan's own began to burn.

"So, Drew, when did Ash say we had to go to Pallet Town?" May asked, turning back to face the green-haired Coordinator, who was now running his gloved right hand flirtatiously through his hair, although May assumed that this was merely because of an itch and Brendan felt his face redden and Wally wondered if he should do anything about it all.

"He said noon tomorrow. And bring extra clothes and a toothbrush." Pausing for a moment, Drew rummaged around his jacket's pockets and pulled out two tickets. "He supplied two tickets for a ferry leaving early tomorrow morning."

Snatching the tickets out of Drew's hands, May inspected them closely. "Aw, I don't know who to bring... hmm, the S.S. Tidal is it?"

A flash of recognition came across Wally's face, but no one really noticed—May was busy contemplating the problem, Brendan was busy glaring at Drew, and Drew was busy flipping his hair. The Breeder decided to stick up for himself for once, though, and said clearly, "I know the Captain of the Tidal quite well, I think he'll let us board if he sees me."

"Really, Wally? That'd be awesome!" May cried, hugging Wally who nearly choked and Brendan had to quickly pry her off of their frail friend. Drew sneered at Wally; he disliked any who displayed signs of physical or emotional weakness, and it was one of the reasons why he liked teasing May so, although he didn't do so yet. The Breeder frowned at Drew, puzzled. "Let's go back in then, shall we?"

**Viridian City Game Corner, Kanto**

"How long," The voice, cold and forbidding, echoed down the semi-deserted hallway. Fluorescent lights cast their icy glares on two figures strolling down hallway, and the shorter and thinner of the two responded by scratching his head.

"At the most, about three or four days," The thin man, who was wearing a long white lab coat and thick glasses, answered formally as the two approached a large room with multiple doors that all slid open upon recognizing the thin man and the larger man, who was wearing a dark tuxedo.

The tuxedo-wearing man's eyes were obscured by a pair of sunglasses, although from behind them a malicious vermillion glint appeared. "Good."

The glasses-wearing man nodded to another researcher as they passed by. Soon, the two arrived in front of a large pane of glass the stretched across the entire left wall of the immense but completely human-less room, although in many places odd machines stuck out of the ground at perfectly vertical angles.

An elongated emerald dragon reared behind the pane of glass, in obvious pane as it shrieked repeatedly but silently as the two men could not hear its cry. Tubes stuck out of the serpentine Pokemon's body, and it continuously slammed its powerful body against the pane of glass and the other three walls, to absolutely no avail. The pane of glass refused to even quiver, and it was obvious that with every second the Pokemon's power was slowly dwindling.

In a separate room adjacent to the green Pokemon's, a ostensibly smaller but no less formidable figure was levitating in mid-air, suspended by an anti-gravital force, perhaps that of psychic powers. Its skin was leathery and purple, at times lighter lilac, and bruises—many and large—marred the cloned Pokemon's body. Like the other, the purple Pokemon had tubes protruding out of its body, and if possible, it seemed to have even more than the Dragon's, as if accumulated through time.

"Very soon," Team Rocket's Leader murmured to himself, smiling darkly. "Very soon."

**A/N:  
That concludes the first chapter to **_**Natural Disturbances**_

I've got the whole plot planned out, basically, with a little rifts here and there, and I know exactly who is going to end up with who, so please respect my decision once I finish this story—which by my reckon will be round a dozen chapters, give or take a few. I'm not quite sure—it could be longer.


	2. Wanderings and Happenings

**Welcome to the second installation of Natural Disturbances! All of Nick's review-questions-answers are in the Author's Notes, by the way. **

**Prominent Pairings of This Chapter:  
AshxGary  
DrewxMay  
BrendanxMay**

**Newly Introduced Main to Side Human Characters in This Chapter (Order of Appearance):  
Ash Ketchum  
Gary Oak**

**Well let's tarry not, here is the second chapter! **

**Pallet**** Town****, Kanto **

Ashton Red Ketchum awoke with a start. He did not know what exactly it was that woke him, nor did he have time to muffle the high-pitched shriek that escaped his mouth as a sharp rap on his window startled him. Turning around as he saw a particular auburn-haired teenager grinning cheekily at him, sitting on a Pidgeot, the sixteen-year-old would-be Pokemon Master closed his eyes in embarrassment.

Not only had his rival witnessed him in his matching (and in Ash's opinion, rather fetching) light turquoise pajama, but also saw Ash scream like a girl. It then occurred to him that his mother, Dawn, and his nefarious—but slightly better now—Sinnoh competitor, Paul, might have been awakened by the sound, but the boy had no time to contemplate anything as Gary Oak once again rapped on his window.

Giving up, Ash straightened himself to a standing position, messy jet black hair sticking up at ridiculous angles. His Pikachu, once quietly asleep on the ground, also jerked awake, sparks flaring from its red cheeks; but realizing that Team Rocket was not trying to kidnap it on one of their many futile quests, the electric mouse Pokemon relaxed. The Pikachu was not to drift back into slumber, though; its Trainer had opened the window and hissed at Gary, "What do you want?"

"So much for a 'hello' after two years," Gary smirked his most infamous smirk, and Ash wondered if their relationship had dwindled back to the 'you sucks' of early teenage. "And I'm very glad to see you too." Gary added sarcastically. Ash noticed that his rival's voice had dropped by an octave or two, and the black-haired Trainer began feeling embarrassed of his own voice, which most certainly did not qualify as deep—no, oftentimes he'd emit high-pitched squeaks for no reason. Ash wanted a voice like Gary's, but after he realized he thought this, quickly shook the thought away.

"Seriously, why wake me up at"—Ash glanced at the analog clock hanging on top of the wall opposite the window, and then his mouth dropped open—"4: 30 in the morning?! I usually sleep till ten!"

"That's wonderful, Ashy-boy," Gary said delicately, causing Ash's face to redden, not only with embarrassment, but at the fact that Gary's face, as angular as it had been, had accentuated so that Gary became considerably hotter than before. "Anyways, Sleeping Beauty,"—Ash's face continued to redden—"I'm here to challenge you to a battle."

"Wha—? Oh, fine then." Ash snapped, motioning to his Pikachu, who happily jumped onto its Trainer's right shoulder. Grabbing his belt of Pokeballs from his bedside table, without even thinking about it, the black-haired Trainer leapt through the window and landed, two floors below, on the grassy lawn.

"Very smooth, future Pokemon Master," Gary said thickly, hopping gracefully off of his Pidgeot's back as he descended and Ash twitched pitifully on the ground, face pressed into the dirt. The auburn-haired Trainer grabbed Ash by the elbows and lifted him up, Ash rising easily and marveling at Gary's strength—if it were the former to pick up the latter, Ash knew he'd probably just wait for Gary to stand up himself. Although, when Gary's hands actually grabbed Ash's arms, however benevolent the contact had been Ash found himself straightening up without any of his rival's assistance and his face increasing to an even brighter red; Ash wondered why.

It was rather dark, and the sun had not yet rose. The air was slightly damp with the beads of water clinging onto each strand of grass. The humidity only helped amplify Ash's own red-facedness, but Gary did not seem to notice and Ash was grateful that Gary had not taken this as an opportunity to further humiliate Ash.

"Anyways, let's make this a double battle, what says you?" Gary asked, twirling a Pokeball in mid-air. Ash was able to see Gary in his entirety; his auburn-haired rival was simply wearing a white T-shirt with a Pokeball print on it and ripped jeans that seemed to add to his ruggedness; the black-haired Pokemon Trainer also noticed that Gary had grown by a good inch or two, and now seemed to tower above Ash, who had not grown at all, and instead had retained large amounts of boyishness. The 'Z' shaped marks on his cheeks had not faded, a relic of his childhood and a rather painful scar he did not like to tell anyone about.

"Um, yeah, sure," Ash replied, clumsily hurrying backwards to clear space. He reached for two random Pokeballs on his belt and flung them into the air. His Staraptor and Torterra emerged, crying valiantly; the former strutted around the place and the latter growled deeply.

Gary, the obviously smoother of the two, flipped out two Pokemon—kissing each Pokeball quickly for good luck, and suddenly Ash angry at this exuberant display, or was it an inexplicable jealousy, the black-haired Trainer did not know— that appeared in liquid-like jets of red. A humanoid fox-like Pokemon formed; Ash gasped ridiculously loudly and caused Gary to raise an eyebrow at him; and then a dark feline figure exploded out of one Pokeball, rings of glowing yellow dotting its body in various places.

"A—A—LUCARIO?!" Ash demanded, feeling his head grow faint and hearing his Pikachu utter a small 'chuu' in comfort. Gary looked at his rival with concern, but seemed to realize he was revealing care for Ash and masked it with a patronizing expression.

"They're rare and admittedly, hard to get your hands on." Gary said, tossing his head proudly so that his auburn hair rippled in the precious little light that there was, oddly attractive and at the same time, ridiculously infuriating, in Ash's opinion. "And only the best of the best can boast that they've succeeded in properly Training one—so naturally, I can."

"Hey!" Ash said lamely, not quite knowing what else to say. In fact, he only said that because he didn't quite know what else to say—inside, he was boiling with jealousy and admiration for his rival.

Gary seemed to suppress the impulse to take advantage of Ash's languid comeback, if it even qualified as one. Instead, Gary opened his mouth and commanded fluidly, "Lucario, 'Dragon Pulse'! Umbreon, 'Shadow Ball'!"

The Aura Pokemon closed his eyes in concentration, a cobalt sphere forming between its took stretched palms. The Umbreon took it to forming a black orb, crackling with dark energy, in front of her slightly unhinged mouth.

Ash would not allow Gary to so easily defeat him, not after six years of Training and learning to become the world's greatest Pokemon Master. "Torterra, 'Razor Leaf'! Staraptor, 'Aerial Ace' on Lucario to dodge 'Dragon Pulse'!" The level of excitement in his voice rose as his Pokemon obeyed without hesitation; green, speedily rotating leaves blasted out of the turtle-like Pokemon's back, headed straight towards Gary's Lucario and Umbreon and the Staraptor swiftly wheeled into the air to avoid a navy blue pulse of energy that shot out of Lucario's outspread palms.

Gary looked a little annoyed as his Lucario's attack missed and Staraptor slash shamelessly into his Lucario's backside, causing the fox-like Pokemon to stagger backwards in pain, but regain his composure quickly. Meanwhile, Umbreon's attack had finished charging and it hurled towards Ash's Torterra, destroying any Razor Leaves that might have been flying Gary's Team's way at the time and striking the turtle-like Pokemon straight in the face.

Torterra skidded backwards and Staraptor promptly flew back to his Teammate's side as Ash both swelled with pride and cringed with indignity. Gary didn't seem to really mind Lucario's damage suffered from the 'Aerial Ace', and was only a little too proud of his Umbreon's 'Shadow Ball''s accuracy.

"All right! Staraptor, 'Peck' Umbreon! Torterra, 'Synthesize'!" Ash ordered hurriedly. His Torterra tentatively lifted its stout head to the sun, absorbing energy, but Gary's Lucario would not stand for it and swiftly rammed into the turtle-like Pokemon with a powerful 'Brick Break' attack as the Torterra kicked up red dust and skidded backwards once again. His Staraptor, undeterred by its Teammate's poor state, careened through the air to repeatedly peck the Dark-typed Pokemon on the head.

Umbreon's yellow rings glowed with annoyance, and as Staraptor pulled away, the feline Pokemon attacked with an 'Iron Tail' attack—Ash opened his mouth to bark a dodge, but he did not have enough time. The Moonlight Pokemon slammed ruthlessly into the Predator Pokemon with a glowing white tail, and then leapt back as his tail faded back to its usual raven color and the Staraptor staggered through the air, landing on the ground a few meters later.

Ash cringed as both of his Pokemon suffered reckonable damage, but shouted encouragingly, "Don't worry, Torterra and Staraptor! We're going to win this match! Let's try that again!"

Gary merely smirked as Ash's Torterra wobbled to its short feet and tried reenergizing itself once again, and once again was put off by another well-aimed 'Brick Break' attack from the Aura Pokemon. The auburn-haired Trainer's Umbreon, too, was better prepared; as Ash's Staraptor stuck out its beak to peck the Moonlight Pokemon's head again, the Umbreon swiftly leapt to the side and flipped into the air, metallic tail once again slamming into the Predator Pokemon's left wing.

"Why don't you just give up, Ashy-boy?" Gary asked mockingly, running his right hand through his spiky hair. Ash turned red again, and was about to shout back, 'Never!'—but before he could do that, both of his Pokemon had collapsed onto the ground, obviously unconscious.

The black-haired Trainer could only concede defeat and silently return his Pokemon, his shoulders sagging. Gary took it to exuberantly returning his own Pokemon, making a show of twirling each Pokeball on his right index finger before flipping them back on his belt. Ash hesitantly looked up, only to have his spirits once again extinguished by the wide smirk on Gary's face.

"Need I say it, I win." Gary said, tilting his head upwards proudly. Ash could only glower pathetically, while Pikachu 'chuued' in comfort.

An awkward silence ensued as the two former rivals stared at each other, neither not quite knowing what to do. At last Ash offered meekly, "Shall we take a walk?" while feebly indicating the gradually rising sun.

The auburn-haired Trainer was a little bewildered by this request—the corners of his mouth twitched in surprise, but he soon masked his surprise with a stern fatigue and nodded. Ash's Pikachu remained silence as its Trainer and its Trainer's rival walked down the stone-strewn path that led from Pallet Town into the unmarked wilderness of the first route—which, since Pallet Town's inhabitants grew out of battling wild Rattata and Pidgey for experience, had grown considerably feral, although the electric mouse would squeak at an occasional blur of unexpected purple.

The sunrise cast an odd sort of orange glow to everything—Ash chanced a glance at Gary, only to notice that his rival's fair skin seemed to have become tanner over the two years they had not seen each other, although not quite as dark as Ash's alabaster skin, and the black-haired Trainer concluded that this was due to travel in Sinnoh. Having traveled in the 'land of lakes' himself for quite some time, Ash only knew too well that the sun there was more than a little heavy, but Dawn had insisted on slathering sun screen on everyone, partially in an effort to preserve her own milky-white skin, which was ridiculously fair for someone of Japanese descent, Ash thought, and then he began to wonder just what he was thinking about.

"Ash." Gary said unexpectedly as the two stopped before a lake that blocked their path, while reaching for another Pokeball clipped on his leather belt. Ash looked up in puzzlement, and Pikachu did the same.

"What?" Ash asked, flinching as his voice squeaked.

Gary did not seem to have noticed however, and merely asked, a dull flush creeping onto his skin—and Ash asked himself, ' Gary, _blushing?!'_—"Do you, er, I mean, have you ever had a, um, girlfriend?"

"What?" Ash asked again, taken very much aback. At first he was so shocked by this question that he didn't even know what to say; but then, after realizing the inquiry's true contents, answered, "Um, no…" The black-haired Trainer then immediately wondered if this was unusual—that he, a boy of sixteen, had never had any sort of romantic relationship with anyone before. Unless he counted the time that girl from the encounter with Lugia practically _pressed_ herself on him—Ash had completely forgotten her name, blaming it of course on his failing memory, but the whole experience was enough to make him shudder. God, he hadn't even _liked_ her! It was just so _creepy_!

Upon recollection, the black-haired Trainer decided that he had never really liked somebody before, or if he did, he couldn't tell, seeing as he had nothing else to compare it to, although he did feel a little flustered in some certain people's presences. Though he did not know if that qualified as anything more than slight infatuation—and then with horror, realized that he had felt just that way towards Gary before, and even _Paul_, but this train of thought crashed abruptly as Gary said, "Me neither."

There was another pause as Ash struggled to recover the tattered remains of his last thoughts, but failing to do so, merely added to the conversation unhelpfully, "Do you think it's… like… normal? I mean, I've never felt like… looking for a girlfriend… exactly… even though… I thought… I mean… I thought you always had one." The black-haired Trainer sincerely hoped he did not reveal worry in his tone of voice, although he was proven very much wrong by the strange look Gary spared him.

"Um, yeah, I guess it's… normal." Gary said somewhat lamely, then said after a brief bit of consideration, "Gramps is always pressuring me to, though. Get a girlfriend, I mean."

"Seriously, Gary, you've never had one?" Ash asked incredulously. He thought he detected a pink tinge on his rival's face, but then the side of his cheek that was visible to Ash was covered as the auburn-haired Trainer threw a Pokeball into the air that released the large silhouette of a shelled Pokemon.

"No." Gary replied, his voice betraying nothing, hinting at nothing, and for some reason, Ash desperately wanted to believe it to be the truth, yet there was something, a nagging thought, that refused to subside, and so the black-haired Trainer blurted it out before thinking twice.

"But you had all those weird cheerleading fangirls!" Ash said loudly, startling a pair of nearby Spearow and causing them to hastily take flight. Gary jumped onto his Blastoise's back, who was at the moment bobbing up and down quietly.

"Well, yeah, but I didn't really like _them_, just the attention, you know?" Gary said. It then suddenly occurred to Ash just how suspiciously nice Gary was acting after that brief bit of gloating, but he decided that the guy was just trying to be kind. The black-haired Trainer, however, would not stand that his rival was already in the lake and he was not.

Ash, too, hurled out a Pokemon; his recently evolved Crawdaunt splashed into the water noisily. The crab-like Pokemon, very much contrary to its deceptively menacing appearance, happily flailed about in the water, eager for a chance to test out its heightened senses, but was stopped when Ash hurriedly leapt onto the Crawdaunt's slippery dark tangerine back, clutching at the shoulders of his Pokemon to prevent sliding off of it.

Gary watched with a bemused expression as his Blastoise snorted loudly in disapproval and Pikachu cringed as its Trainer tried to gain leverage, and finally succeeded, but just barely. Then, as if acting on a silent agreement, the two teenagers began sliding across the surface of the water, Gary standing suavely on his Pokemon's dome-shaped light brown shell and Ash clutching onto his Crawdaunt so tightly that it almost daunted the water-and-dark-typed Pokemon's speed.

Blastoise and Crawdaunt, regardless of any extra factors, seemed to be well matched in speed; Gary, sensing a possible competition, urged his turtle-like Pokemon forwards, so that now they were roughly half a yard in front of Ash and his Crawdaunt (and of course, his Pikachu). Ash did not know this was to ignite another contest between them, but his Crawdaunt knew very well—or simply could not stand someone or something faster than himself—and too raised his speed, so that they were now almost neck-to-neck.

"Crawdaunt! Not too fast!" Ash gasped, nearly choking on water. Pikachu seemed to enjoy the speed, though—being a relatively fast Pokemon himself, the electrical mouse had never had many chances to enjoy riding on something faster than him. At the end of the small but long lake, both water-typed Pokemon swerved violently and started zooming back to the 'starting line'. The black-haired Trainer tightened his vice grip on his Crawdaunt's two shoulders, now almost parallel with the water's surface.

However, being a recently evolved Pokemon nonetheless, the crab-like Pokemon lost balance and toppled over magnificently into the water. The Crawdaunt surfaced easily, but Ash took a few seconds to manage to burst out of the water, both him and his Pikachu—who was still clutching onto Ash's left shoulder determinedly. The black-haired Trainer's cap had been knocked astray in the whole process, and as Ash flailed around wildly looking for it, Gary said, "Here."

Ash glanced up, only to see his rival hold his well-drenched baseball cap in his hand, twirling it tauntingly on his right forefinger. He lunged wildly for his rightful possession, but Gary had already sped off on his Blastoise, heading for the shore which they had just left.

"Git." The black-haired Trainer grumbled as he clambered onto his Crawdaunt's back, now ever so acute to any falling hint. However, the crab-like Pokemon did not fail Ash again, and they soon reached the shore.

Before Ash could open his mouth to demand his cap back—it was his favorite cap, too— Gary had already put it on his head, flattening it down so that his messy, uncombed black hair was subdued somewhat. Ash glanced at Gary who was smirking satisfactorily at him; the former patted his own head and discovered to his pleasant surprise that Gary had already dried it, perhaps with a light fire-type attack from own of his Pokemon.

Nevertheless, Ash could hardly believe that the same person who had dried his hat was now speeding off on his Arcanine, calling to Ash over his shoulder, "Last one to Pallet Town's a rotten egg!"

**Petalburg, Hoenn **

Drew Rosalind awoke with a start, somewhat unaware of his surroundings but wary all the same. Then he realized that he was in May's house—he had politely requested to board the night there, hardly thinking that the white-haired boy or that boy with the odd green-yellow hair would allow him to stay his night at their house. Of course, Drew could be rather charming when he wanted to be, and so, of course, Caroline had agreed, much to May's shock and light disdain, although Drew knew that she was struggling to mask some other emotion.

It was a good thing that the Maples' had an extra room, else Drew was pretty sure that he would be sleeping on the couch or on a lame makeshift bed, which would severely hurt his beauty—er, he meant 'sleep'. Nevertheless, the green-haired Trainer was grateful for this, and out of curiosity he checked the small digital clock next to the bed, which read '7: 00'.

Quite obvious was the fact that Drew's wakening was on time; he purposefully trained himself to wake up every morning at seven, although he was kind of surprised that he managed to still wake up at seven o'clock since the last time he slept was in the Slateport Contest Hall—incidentally, where he got Ash's message via the means of his Pokenav beeping its face off.

The green-haired Trainer promptly lifted himself off of the bed and pushed open the door, intent on brushing his teeth and maybe a light manicure. However, when he pulled open the bathroom door he discovered to his surprise and to a certain extent, delight, that May was already in there.

The May in question was taking off her clothes, evidently for the shower, and thankfully for her she did not strip too far and had heard when Drew so unceremoniously entered. In fact, she had only shed her normal red collared vest, revealing the long white shirt underneath.

Perhaps someone else might have apologized and stumbled awkwardly out, but Drew Rosalind was not one for such things. Instead, he smirked and said, "You know, I always thought that white shirt part sticking out underneath your vest was a skirt."

May gasped in horror as she quickly grabbed her red vest from the hamper, clutching it protectively over her chest and edging towards the door, at an apparent loss for words. Drew recognized this as one of her many poor 'defenses'; and he could have shattered it very easily, although he just let it pass this time—temporarily, at least.

"May, May, May," Drew said, sighing and waggling a finger at May, who was now barely four inches away from himself, and the green-haired Trainer was quite aware of this, "Of all the people I know, you are the only one who I thought did not take a shower in the morning."

This time, May answered, although her retort was not the best. "Well… I don't… but today I thought I'd change." She then blushed, as if realizing how lame her reply was.

"I see." Drew said tantalizingly, leaning on the bathroom door to make way for May to pass had she chosen to. Instead she stood rooted to the spot, and as jade eyes met sapphire, Drew discovered with a jolt that she appeared worried, even fearful. In spite of himself, the green-haired Trainer asked, "What's wrong, May?"

May sighed before seeming to decide to trust her disreputable rival. "Well… it's just that… seeing Brendan and Wally"—Drew's mind clicked with recognition, then with distaste as he remembered the hotheaded white-haired Trainer—"after… what, four, five years?... has gotten me thinking…"

"About what?" Drew urged, almost palpably eager to know.

"Just… about. You know. Changing and stuff." May finished languidly, flopping the left strand of hair that protruded from under her red bandana. Drew did not know quite what to say, but then May had asked, "Do you think I've changed since we first met?"

Drew pondered the question for a few seconds, then answered meticulously, "Yes. But all for the better."

"Good." May said, a radiant smile on her face—one that Drew was absolutely positive was genuine, and one that almost caused himself to smile as well.

**West of Petalburg Gym, Petalburg, Hoenn **

Brendan Birch had always admired, envied, or even feared those, whether they be Trainer, Coordinator, or Breeder, greater than himself. For this reason, he was consecutively intimidated by his mentor and master, (although Brendan felt a little iffy applying the latter term) Wallace. Yes. The Wallace. The Master-ranked Coordinator—in the times before they merged all Pokemon Contest categories and added in the battles at the end, not to mention the dancing and visual categories—former Gym Leader of Sootopolis, which was, and still is, the toughest gym to defeat in all of Hoenn, and current Champion of Hoenn.

Such a figure surely attracted many seeking tutorage from the seemingly undefeatable Wallace. Brendan knew himself that it was hard—and at times, nearly impossible—to impress the aqua-haired Champion. After all, a Champion is not crowned for nothing. He reflected back to five years ago, when he was still a bumbling greenhorn Trainer, of hoping to tackle the Contests and perhaps scrape a win or two for himself.

Back then, Brendan was most definitely not the strongest nor the coolest, and probably not the smartest. However, at the sight, the utterly breathtaking sight, of Wallace's Luvdisc performing an impeccable 'Rain Dance' technique, that Brendan himself later declared to be 'flying up and painting the skies' in an attempt to flatter Wallace, followed by the most ethereal 'Water Pulse' in the Slateport Contest Hall, Brendan decided that he was to be both a Trainer and Coordinator.

The white-haired Trainer only had eyes for the best—he had been very selective in choosing the perfect starter Pokemon, and decided on one of his father's many Mudkips, and not only then. He would randomly catch Pokemon not in his Pokedex, and had their strength or speed or defenses been unsatisfactorily, he gently released them. In this case, Brendan was extremely determined to get to be Wallace's—and only Wallace—pupil.

Expectedly, the blue-haired Champion rejected Brendan's first proposal—and also expectedly, the stubborn white-haired Trainer persisted. In one extreme case, Brendan had gotten onto his knees and begged, tears streaming down his face and being utterly humiliated by a large crowd that had gathered. Upon reflection, Brendan decided that his behavior _was_ rather embarrassing, and that Wallace was completely vindicated in wanting to shake Brendan off of his leg. So the then-Gym Leader had challenged Brendan, very reluctantly, to a Pokemon battle in an attempt to shake off the spectators and Brendan.

Wallace, Brendan thought, thought wrong if he wished to dissipate the crowd—instead, only more on-watchers came to watch the battle between Wallace's Seaking and Brendan's Nuzleaf. Brendan lost after a heated fight, but he certainly gave the battle his best and it was then, the white-haired Trainer determined, as Brendan picked up his Pokemon and murmured warm and encouraging words to it, that Wallace had decided to choose Brendan as a pupil.

As the fifteen-year-old Brendan watched a flock of Wingull pass by the Winters' house, the white-haired Trainer felt slightly cold and shifted around under his bed covers. Then, deciding that he was too awake, threw off Wally's spare blanket and changed quickly, pulling on his outfit of short-sleeved black, red-Pokeball printed jacket and three-quarters gray-black pants. He also grabbed his emerald white-Pokeball print headband—how he was obsessed with Pokeball prints—and pushed it onto his forehead.

After pulling on dandelion fingerless gloves and slinging his bottle-green single-strapped backpack and Pokeball belt over his torso and around his waist, the white-haired Trainer carefully stepped outside Wally's front door, mentally thanking his friend for letting him stay the night instead of traveling all the way back to Littleroot.

The white-haired Trainer silently breathed in the crisp, fresh spring air, then remembered something. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a UV 65 sun block lotion bottle, and, squeezing out a large globule of light yellow cream, slathered it all over his pale and supple skin.

"Can't forget this," Brendan thought to himself, tucking his sun block back inside his green backpack, and glanced around himself. He decided he might as well head over to the Pokemon Center to rearrange his Team, since there was nothing else to do and Brendan was willing to bet his Pokeblock Case that May was not awake—but little did he know, she was.

Striding through the transparent red sliding doors of the Pokemon Center, Brendan made his way promptly to the sleek blue PC standing solitarily in the corner of the Center, and pressed a large red button in the center below the screen. The Computer flickered to life, and Brendan quickly punched in his username—which was his given name—and his password.

A list of options sprung up, reading in order: "Pokemon In Box," "Call Someone", and "Item Storage." Brendan easily selected the first one, carefully alighting his finger on the screen, which flashed white and then changed into rows upon rows of Pokemon sprites.

Brendan plopped his Aggron's and Shiftry's Pokeballs onto the platform that jutted out from the side of the PC and had a funnel-shaped device hanging over it, also leading to inside the Computer. After pressing a large button that read 'Confirm' on the screen, the funnel began whirring and the two Pokeballs were sucked inside the funnel—a few moments later, his Aggron and Shiftry's sprites appeared in one of the many rows on the screen. Brendan glanced at his belt and decided he still had three spaces left, and so selected his Gallade, Dragonite, and Ninetails.

The three respective Pokeballs fell out of the funnel in due time, and Brendan carefully clipped them onto his belt. Then, re-donning his bag, he walked out of the Pokemon Center, not quite knowing what to do next.

**Rocket Game Corner, Viridian City, Kanto **

"It is done." The scientist said, rubbing fatigue away from his spectacles-wearing eyes. The giant green dragon, contained behind the pane of thick glass, was subdued—no longer was it thrashing wildly against its container, trying to break free, but now it was lying soundlessly on the ground, coiled up like a huge snake. The somewhat humanoid purple figure, too, had stopped levitating and instead had fallen onto the ground, although a serene expression was on its angular face.

Giovanni looked, very much pleased, at Rayquaza and Mewtwo, twiddling his thumbs in anticipation as two of the scientists entered through the pane of glass by means of a warp panel. Each scientist clutched an odd instrument in their hands, as if designed to be placed on something. The two men proceeded to carefully adjust the two band-like instruments on the dragon and psychic Pokemon's heads, checking the position cautiously to make sure it was absolutely perfect.

They hurriedly rushed back through the pane of glass, using the warp panels again, and watched silently as the Sky Lord and Clone Pokemon rose up to their full heights—the former screeching gutturally and the latter glowing lavender.

Team Rocket's leader smiled to himself, pushing on his own face a pair of dark sunglasses, and reached for several dozen more customizable band instruments, tucking them into a resizable backpack. He then took several remote-like devices from the table everyone was standing at, and taking one of these, punched in a few buttons and lifted the controller to his mouth, uttering a single word, "Come."

The serpentine Pokemon hurled itself through the panel of glass, shattering it instantly, and the purple Pokemon drifted slowly afterwards, its dark amethyst tail barely trailing the ground. The scientists shrieked out loud, for this was not going according to plan, but the Team Rocket Leader would not listen to their cries. Instead he whispered into the controller, "Mewtwo, destroy."

The Clone Pokemon's eyes glowed a formidable red, and a huge explosion shook the entire underground laboratory, causing all of the scientists to immediately dissolve into the air; in other words, it killed them instantaneously. Giovanni smirked and said to himself and the controller, "Now, let's leave this place."

He jumped onto Rayquaza's back, walking shakily up to the regal Pokemon's car-sized head, and whispered an unheard order into the controller again. Rayquaza understood, and blasted out of the ceiling, Mewtwo following close behind. The sight of the green dragon shocked many gamblers in the Game Corner, and chaos ensued inside the gambling attraction, but Giovanni did not stay there long enough to witness this, for he had burst through another ceiling—headed straight for the Indigo Power Plant.

**A/N:  
That concludes the second chapter! —beams— Which should not have taken so long to write… even though it's probably not that long… been like, what, a week:P **

**Well answering Nick's review questions, and here I am a little iffy about since I don't know whether he was kidding or not, but I'll take it at face value anyways: **

**1. ****This fanfic is about, well, Giovanni really and his crazy attempt to take over the world which I really shouldn't elaborate on 'cause that will spoil the plot.. 0o Should be pretty long. **

**2. ****It starts off (kind of) in Pallet Town and then later travels to Johto, then Hoenn, and maybe Sinnoh (not quite sure about the last one.) This takes place in the anime timeline, since more people care about that than any other timeline, shortly after Ash completes the Sinnoh League (which isn't complete yet so I'm taking a few shrewd guesses and would like critique on realism.) **

**3. ****Each character's age is revealed somewhere throughout the fanfiction, but the main characters' ages are no less than fourteen and no older than seventeen (with the exception of Brock, Wallace, and Steven, of course.) There is however Max and an OC, both of which are eleven and ten, respectively. :P This question has got me thinking, and I think I'll post the ages of characters that have shown up already in the A/N from now, unless this decision meets rejection. **

**4. ****Basically all the important game and anime characters are in this fanfic… I'm trying to incorporate all of the un-Animeized important game characters in here in any case… xD (For example, Brendan and that Silver-guy (from Johto, I only know his Pokemon Special Manga name)). Oh, and Giovanni, of course. **

**5. ****May is the anime version and Brendan is a cross between all three versions of him: game, Special Manga, and anime. **

**Hope this answers your questions… and for those of you curious as to what the questions were in the first place, just check the review page. **

**So anyways, about that age indicator, I've decided not to use it. :P You should be able to figure it out yourself. Anyways, Max and an OC are the only characters under the age of 14 in this fic.**

**And this concludes the author's notes! Review review! **


	3. On the Ship and Not

**And this is the third installation of **_**Natural Disturbances**_**, in which I realize that the name of this entire fanfic is the lamest ever! **

**Prominent Pairings of This Chapter:  
DrewxMay  
BrendanxMay  
AshxGary**

**Newly Introduced Main to Side Human Characters in This Chapter (Order of Appearance):  
Harley Davidson  
Professor Samuel Oak  
Tracey Sketchit  
Misty Waterflower  
Dawn Hikari  
Lucas Hikari  
Tyson Haste  
Paul Samuels  
Marina Clearwater  
Jimmy Tekan  
Silver Smith**

**I implore everyone to review… even if you hated it. If you hated it, please tell me why, so I can change it. - And I can boost my review number… five is just sad, peeps.**

**Chapter Three—On the Ship and Not**

**Indigo Power Plant, Kanto**

"I have you," Giovanni cackled quietly to himself as the Clone Pokemon, easily employing its powerful psychic abilities, forced the God of Electricity into a corner, pressing it down, draining the Legendary Bird of all its energy until it collapsed onto the floor, shaking feebly. Sparks of static flew wildly from all around the fallen bird, and its once revered intimidation effect that was known to diminish the amount of times a Pokemon could perform a move was destroyed completely.

The man fingered a band-like instrument—embedded with a small, glittering ruby, perhaps the fragment of a larger one—in his hand before throwing it the way one might through a Frisbee at the crumpled bird-like Pokemon. It sprang open in mid air and clasped onto the electric-typed Pokemon's left wing, speedily shrinking and beeping mechanically. Zapdos finally gave way to the power of the device, and a few moments later rose into the air with an oddly blank look on its angular face, ready to obey Giovanni's orders.

"One legendary down in less than an hour," Team Rocket's Leader muttered self-satisfactorily. He considered informing the various Administrators of his success, but decided to amaze them when he had collected the rest of the well-known Bird Trio. Leaping back onto the floating emerald Dragon, Giovanni ordered his Pokemon to follow as they flew forwards through the large hole they had created in the ceiling when entering, flying due west.

**Petalburg, Hoenn**

Half an hour after Maya Sapphire Maple hurriedly excused herself from the bathroom, she was sitting down at breakfast staring with a bored expression at the once-full bowl of milk and cereal. She thought if she should perhaps help herself to a fourth serving, but didn't choose to do that as she thought her brother would not take it so kindly when he found out that May had consumed all of his Froot Loops.

Her parents were stirring—May could hear that, and Drew had just turned off the shower faucet; May could also hear that. She wondered vaguely where her Skitty disappeared off to after being chased around the house wildly by her father's Vigoroth and crashing into an antique china stand (much to her mother's dismay); probably resting in her father's greenhouse.

May appreciated the outfit Brendan had made her—she thought it miraculous that he had guessed her size perfectly. It was far more comfortable that she thought it would have been, although slightly flashier than she would have preferred—her shorts, although sleek and stylish, were half an inch too short for her to completely adore it, but like her friend Marina, incidentally whom May had met while traveling in Johto, had said, May didn't really know fashion.

She hated, despised that fact even about her—her far too small outfits Brendan had designed and tailored for her so kindly half a decade ago were embarrassingly revealing and on more than one account she had to borrow one of Marina's friend, Jimmy's, extra large sweatshirt, much to the cerulean-haired girl and jet black-haired boy's amusement. Indeed, throwing a Pokeball when your sleeves were a feet too long was a tricky business, and May had learned to roll them up whenever she tried to.

Thankfully her hair had grown long, then—in fact, she had allowed it to grow so mainly for hiding her body. Where areas if she had cut it regularly it would have only fallen to her shoulders, now it neared mid-waist. May had consulted Max about whether or not her longer hair made her look stupid, and when he responded with fervent laughter, had asked Marina about the matter, and she had said that yes, it kind of did.

So shortly after she came back to Petalburg she had asked her mother to cut her hair shorter for her, and so Caroline had complied. Thinking back, May had rather liked her long hair despite how it might have made her look a little dumb. Lost in her thoughts about short and long hair, May once again bumped into Drew in the hallway, after he had changed.

The brown-haired Coordinator could instantly smell her rival's hair. It smelled as good as it usually did—all fresh and minty. May herself didn't like washing her hair, much—and after she had grown it long showering became an almost hazardous experience, and so she usually disguised her odor with lots of perfume. It was a good thing, then, that she had taken a bath the previous night; in any other case her own body smell would be only too obvious amidst invisible clouds of grassy freshness.

Perhaps she had revealed a little too much on her dreamy expression while she continued to smell Drew's lovely hair, because soon he asked, "Are you feeling okay, May?"

May jerked back to reality, suddenly aware of how idiotic she had looked. Then she was immediately acute of the fact how Drew, _Drew_, seemed to have revealed care for her. Then she realized that if she had come down sick he would not be able to attend the party (and she knew all too well that he liked parties). Then she noticed a faint blush on Drew's lightly tanned face, and became very much embarrassed.

"May? Are you okay?" Drew asked again, laying his right hand caringly on her shoulder, a stern expression on his face. The brown-haired Coordinator was highly sensitive to his touch, and instead of acting normal she jumped backwards, nearly crashing into the other antique china stand.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine," May said hurriedly, readjusting her green bandana. This gesture seemed to draw Drew to notice her change of outfit, because he soon commented on that.

"What's up with your new outfit? It looks hideous, as usual." He said smoothly, although May could not help but wonder if he was thinly disguising awe, because his green eyes kept darting to her shorts.

"Hey! Brendan made it for me!" May retorted defensively, but somewhat meekly, as she fiddled with her bottle green waist bag. Drew merely raised his eyebrows.

"He _sews_?" Drew asked in disbelief, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Um, yeah, what's wrong with that?" May shot back, even more defensively.

"Oh, nothing… Just that, why does he _sew_? There's something wrong with a guy sewing, if you ask me." He flipped his hair; May glowered.

"Well, if you couldn't go out all the time in risk of fainting if you didn't apply enough sunscreen—and this was before the days anyone gave a damn about UV rays or whatnot—you would stay inside! And maybe you would learn how to sew!" May huffed, a certain edge now crawling into her voice. Drew seemed to note that she did not stand for blatant insult of her friend Brendan, and so didn't mention the topic further.

Instead, as they stared at each other without so much as making a noise, her Skitty decided to streak down the hallway, chased now by May's Beautifly, who was making odd hissing noises as it attempted to shoot down the kitten-like Pokemon. May sighed and proceeded after her Beautifly and Skitty, shouting 'stops!' after them.

Drew sighed as well, but May did not see him anymore as she proceeded down the hallway—and into the dining room—and into the hallway again—and then outside in a shameless attempt to stop her two Pokemon. After tripping over her front steps and landing very much painfully on her buttocks, May employed her father's two choiciest swearwords and punched the air pathetically as her Skitty decided to chase its tail and Beautifly shot periodical 'String Shots' at the blur of pink and orange.

"Woah, lady, careful with the language." A familiar voice, not the cynical one of Drew's, but rather the subtly sarcastic of Brendan's, spoke. May glanced up to see her white-haired friend towering above herself, a bemused expression etched onto his face. She blushed in shame, breaking the crimson/sapphire gaze and looking elsewhere—at the tips of her sneakers-wearing toes.

"Seriously, May, what's up?" Brendan asked, and as May pointed feebly towards her maniacal Skitty and Beautifly Brendan seemed to realize how silly his question was. Sighing importantly in an attempt to cheer May up, which hazily succeeded, Brendan flung out a Pokeball attached onto his own emerald belt—and it was then that May realized how their outfits seemed to match—and from the open hood sprang a cherry silhouette that solidified into one of a humanoid Pokemon.

The Gallade flexed his shoulders, looking around wildly for an opponent, and then realizing that the problem was right in front of him let his right eye twitch. May giggled at Brendan's Pokemon's comical expression, but before she could orally point this out, the Gallade had already caused the outlines of both Beautifly and Skitty to freeze in motion, with a well-placed and undetectable 'Psychic' attack.

The Pokemon directed the bug-type and normal-type to in front of May, and then broke his concentration. As a result, Skitty looked politely bewildered and Beautifly's hissing sounds subsided. May could not help but laugh again, and Brendan's mouth formed the shadow of a grin.

"Of course, Brendan can always solve the problem." Brendan said daintily, addressing himself in third person. May giggled again, and just as she did Drew exited the door, a careful frown on his face and with a gray rucksack slung over his left shoulder, undoubtedly containing his extra clothes and toothbrush among other personal items..

"Brendan." Drew said, not revealing anything in his neutral tone of voice.

The white-haired Trainer seemed to struggle for a moment to erase his own voice and face of any emotion, and then replied with a perfect poker face, "Drew."

The sight of the two staring at each other caused May to laugh inside, but she did not laugh out loud, to prevent from hurting anyone's feelings. Drew and Brendan might have suspected this, though, and soon broke their angry glare-contest.

Unexpectedly, Max tumbled out of the door, fully dressed although slightly tired-looking. The young blue-haired Trainer opened his mouth and said, stifling a yawn as he did so, "Um… Dad woke up and he said we have to go, like, really soon."

May reluctantly got up and stretched, fully ridding herself of any weariness in her act. She did not seem to notice her two peers' eyes follow her movements carefully, and perhaps wander places where it should not go, but May was not one for such nonsense and soon she had marched back inside to grab the two tickets she had put on the counter the previous night, as well as stuff inside her already crammed bag some prepared clothes (again, too tight for herself but she didn't really care) into her green bag and five random Pokeballs. She realized that two of them were empty and thus had to be her Beautifly and Skitty's, and so returned the two respective Pokemon.

"All right!" She said energetically, contaminating her friends and brother with her excitement. "Brendan, go grab Wally! C'mon Max, we're going to Slateport!"

It then suddenly struck all of them just how they were going to achieve that. Slateport was many miles away, to the best of May's knowledge. There was certainly panic infecting her mind now, and her expression showed it. Brendan seemed to know what to say, however, and remarked, "It's okay, I can lend you guys some of my Dragons."

Just what Pokemon exactly were all of Brendan's 'Dragons' did not become apparent when Drew sent out his Flygon, climbing up its back with a somewhat stubborn air. May was at a loss for actions and words—she quickly realized that she was short of a capable flying-typed Pokemon, since her Beautifly surely could not sustain her weight.

Wally walked out of his house on his own accord, appearing bubbly and energetic and changed into his usual outfit, although to the best of May's memory it had been modified by undoubtedly Brendan. His T-shirt had lost a sleeve, perhaps for the sake of style, and the sleeve that was still there had elongated slightly, up to Wally's elbow. The golden-green-haired Trainer's olive green pants seemed to be newer upon closer inspection. He seemed to note that everyone was getting ready to fly, and so hurriedly looked to Brendan.

The white-haired Trainer absorbed May and Max's expressions—all wide-eyed with the realization that they had no means of transportation. He sighed and proceeded inside the Pokemon Center, to emerge a short minute later clutching two more Pokeballs in his hands, not a very difficult act.

May aimlessly selected one Pokeball, as her brother plucked the one remaining. She whipped her Pokemon out, only to hurry backwards as an oddly colored Dragonite sprang out of the Pokeball—where areas normal Dragonite would have yellow scales and skin, this Dragonite had a peculiar shade of pink. Shrugging, she crawled onto the gentle Pokemon's lowered back, careful to avoid stepping on its relatively small wings.

Wally sent out another Flygon that seemed to compliment his as well as Drew's hair, although this particular Dragon seemed to be substantially smaller than Drew's, most likely owing to an age difference, May thought. It was not unusual of her green-obsessed friend to own such a green Pokemon, though. As he clambered on, Max sent out a middle-sized Altaria, who squawked energetically. Brendan shrugged when Max shot him a confused look as he tried to calm his borrowed Dragon Pokemon.

The azure-haired Trainer then shrugged and carefully seated himself between the large bird Pokemon's two wings. As Brendan sent out his own Dragonite and nodded approvingly to the rest while Drew maintained a patronizing glare, all four Pokemon took flight.

There seemed to be a competition in mid-air to see who would take the lead—among Brendan and Drew, at least. First May would see a flash of yellow in front of herself, since she was too preoccupied with not falling off and not looking down to observe more carefully, and then she would see green, then yellow, then green again. This was not of her concern, however, and she averted her gaze, disobediently downwards.

May gasped involuntarily as the pink Dragonite flew even higher, minimizing the trees and ponds and sparse houses. She thought that if she continued to look down, she would fall and so May squeezed her eyes shut, shivering with the slap of cold wind on her exposed face and clothed back, wishing that she had thought to brought one of Jimmy's sweatshirts that she hadn't returned.

Five hours they flew like this, and it took all of May's concentration not to fall asleep and slip off of her Pokemon. She was pretty sure that her pink Dragonite—so careful in aerial maneuvers to make their ride as comfortable as it was long—could catch her if she did fall, but she didn't want to test its true ability. All she could do was waiting in pure boredom.

**Slateport, Hoenn**

Finally, they touched down after what seemed like eons to May. She very gladly returned her Dragonite and promptly gave it to Brendan, who had to juggle his Flygon and Fearow's Pokeballs as well. The white-haired Trainer rushed to the red-roofed Pokemon Center—quite prominent among the various clay-built buildings—and the rest looked around for the ship.

They had arrived somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the city, which was convenient for Brendan to deposit his Pokeballs but made it harder to find the ship, as they were overwhelmed by the noon horde. Before May could say anything, though, Brendan had slipped back into their midst, much to Drew's disdain (and May suspected that he had hoped for the white-haired Trainer to be lost in the large crowd), and with a wink of his eye told everyone to follow.

May wound her way through the throng, meticulously avoiding trodding on anyone's feet or stumbling. Behind her was her brother, and then Max, and finally a very reluctant-looking Drew, who drew looks from people as he passed, undoubtedly with his unusually colored hair and renowned image as a top Coordinator. May did not stop to wallow in her self-pity regarding fame, and soon enough Brendan had led them to the large and noble-looking S.S. Tidal.

There was a wide wooden plank leading up to the entrance of the ship, and they tentatively proceeded up it. A guard was checking the tourists' tickets, and May held her breath as she handed over her two.

The ticket-checking man raised his eyebrows, and glanced at the five in puzzlement. "Um, ma'am, you only have two tickets," He said, pointing out the obvious. Drew glared insolently at the guard, flipping a strand of green hair pompously over the whole mass. Brendan looked as if his throat felt dry. Wally opened his mouth to speak, and as if on cue, an old, white-haired man passed by, a captain's cap upon his head.

"Oh, Mr. Briney!" Wally called out eagerly, waving his thin left arm in the air. Mr. Briney turned around, a small Wingull flapping on his right shoulder, and widened his eyes in surprise.

"Wally boy, is that you?" The old man asked in a wheezing voice. Wally nodded multiple times, causing Drew to scoff quietly in disapproval. Soon, however, after the old captain spoke to the ticket-checking man for a few moments, the five were let on board.

May looked around wildly—she had never been on such an exquisite ferry. She indistinctly noted Wally chatting animatedly with Mr., or should she say, Captain Briney, who boomed randomly with cheerful laughter. Brendan darted forwards towards a room with a golden plaque hanging above the door that read 'Pokeblock Blending Center', and after a while Drew followed through, Max curiously drifting behind.

Before she followed the three inside, however, the brown-haired Coordinator stole more glances around herself. Dotted around the four corners of the ship, which by May's reckon was at least forty yards in length and fifteen in width, although she wasn't very good with numbers, were various plotted plants that offered moderate shade for some tourists. Some looked to be Trainers, and seemed to look around as if seeking a battle; others were simply aged men and women, undoubtedly looking for a small reprieve from their lives.

She then realized that going to Pallet Town was going to take a while—traveling to a different region always took time, after all. May sincerely hoped that Ash was not expecting them to arrive until evening, and then wondered how surprised he might be to find out that Max had gotten Pokemon. He was always a bit on the slow side after all, and this caused quite a bit of trouble on their journeys, but she never said that, explicitly, anyways, for fear of insulting him.

Striding across the wooden floor, May pushed open the door Max, Drew, and Brendan had just entered and walked inside.

**On the S.S. Tidal, from Slateport, Hoenn, to Pallet Town, Kanto**

Andrew Rosalind was more than a little surprised to see that the ferry harbored a Blending Center. These places, based on his own colorful experiences at least, were usually only on the larger ships, such as that one which came yearly to Vermillion, called the S.S. Anne if he was not mistaken. And although the S.S Tidal certainly did not match the Anne in grandeur, it compensated in coziness.

It was also a lot less crowded than he had expected; whenever he was on a cruise of some sort, Drew would go to the Blending Center, if they had one, at least. He also knew that all the Coordinators and Pokeblock Blenders would flock to the Blending Center, undoubtedly under the impression that they would be matched with a good Blender and be able to nab a good quality Pokeblock or two.

He snickered at such actions. Right now, however, Drew was sauntering contentedly down the aisle, looking for a vacant Blending Machine—others had already been taken by various other Coordinators, and had they spared him a glance Drew knew that they would undoubtedly be frozen in shock at the sight of him. It was not everyday, after all, that one meets someone quite as famous as Drew.

Registering May's renewed presence among the crowd satisfactorily, Drew pushed past a rather large Coordinator and found himself, finally, an empty Blender. Placing his gray rucksack on the platform where one traditionally placed finished Pokeblocks, he extracted several yellow-and-coffee Chilan Berries, intending to make several blue Pokeblocks to enhance his Roselia's Beauty.

However, before he could plop the berries inside the machine, Brendan had arrived. Drew smirked disdainfully as the white-haired Trainer slammed his backpack on the Blender, pulling out several blue-striped Ganlon Berries. Despite himself, Drew was impressed that Brendan was able to lay hands on such prestigious Berries, and the green-haired Coordinator was pretty sure that Brendan felt that way towards his Chilan Berries, for he saw the albino raise his eyebrows.

Then, before Drew could open his mouth to make a snide comment about the Ganlon Berries, May had rushed to his side and pulled out a few purple-blue Berries Drew identified immediately as Cornn Berries and spread them into a circle on the small platform in front of herself. Then, even before Drew could remark rudely about May's comparably cheaper Berries, Max had appeared by Brendan's side and withdrawn a handful of pink Magost Berries.

"I take it, then, that we are blending berries together." Drew said dryly, not quite feeling to criticize the others' various berries. With keen nods of approval from May and Max and a reluctant one from Brendan, Drew pushed in one Chilan Berry into his Berry slot; Brendan dropped one Ganlon Berry into his; May lovingly flicked one of her Cornn Berries inside; and Max threw with unnecessary force his own inside his slot.

Drew punched a large red button in the center of the Berry Blending Machine to start it up. As it began to whirl, he suddenly realized if perhaps he should have explained Berry Blending to Max, but the thought was whisked away from his mind when it became his turn to punch the green button in front of himself. He did so, perfectly timed, and the Blender tuned up its speed a little; it was Brendan's turn, and to Drew's dismay he also timed his punch perfectly—

Now it was Max's, which he missed, and the Blender continued on at the same speed; May's, and her timing was mediocre—the Blender continued slightly slower; Drew punched in another perfect timed one; Brendan did too—Max missed, May missed, Drew hit it impeccably, as did Brendan—Max almost got it; May hit another mediocre one—Drew hit it again—the speed was getting faster and faster until after a few dozen more rounds—

The Blender slowed to a stop, and four Pokeblocks were regurgitated out of each of the four slots. Drew carefully took out his own, marveling at the flawless turquoise coloring and the unexpected smoothness. He looked upwards to see the small screen in the center of the Blender lift up to display the scores—his name and Brendan's continuously swapped places, a phenomenon Drew had not witnessed before. May was below the two, and Max was at the very bottom.

"It's a turquoise Pokeblock," Max said, apparently marveling at the texture. May, too, was enraptured by the Pokeblock, but Brendan simply scanned it quickly with a flick of his dark red eyes and then stored his into his Pokeblock Case, stowing that away in his green backpack. Drew was slightly surprised that Brendan didn't observe the Pokeblock further, like Max and May were doing, but then decided that perhaps the white-haired Trainer was more seasoned than Drew had thought him first to be.

Shrugging, the green-haired Trainer stored his own Turquoise Pokeblock into his Pokeblock Case, and, gracefully throwing his Case into his rucksack, strode out of the room, meandering between each Coordinator blocking his way.

The noon sun glared down Drew's exposed neck, and he began wondering if he should rub on some sunscreen, and then winced as he realized he forgot to pack it. May appeared by his side freakishly quickly, and then Brendan by May's. Max seemed to have evaporated into thin air, then reappeared somewhere in front of Drew, joining the conversation with Wally. Drew listened out of pure boredom and noticed that the talk was something to do with Breeding and Natures, but he didn't stay to listen.

The green-haired Coordinator instead headed towards another room entitled 'Resting Area'. May tagged along, although Drew suspected this was merely because she had nothing to do. Realizing that he himself had nothing to do as well, the Coordinator decided to abandon going inside the 'Rest Area' and instead do what he liked best—the art of May teasing.

"May." Drew said simply. The brown-haired girl looked at him questioningly, her large blue eyes widening. He took a moment to dwell on May's puzzled look and Brendan's of loathing, and then continued.

"Why is that you cannot even design your own outfit?" The words flowed like liquid out of the green-haired boy's mouth, and he delighted in watching her eyes continue to widen with rage and her face grow steadily redder—and had Drew glanced at Brendan's face, he would be surprised at how scarlet the white-haired Trainer's milky white skin could go.

"What?" May demanded angrily.

"I was merely wondering."

"Well, for your information, I—" The brown-haired Coordinator trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"I what?"

"I—I—I'm scared of needles."

"Note how I said, 'design', and not 'make'."

"I—I—I—I'm not good at designing clothes!" May huffed angrily, crossing her arms over her chest. Drew did manage to glance at Brendan, and was a bit startled by the shade of purple on the Trainer's face.

"I—I—I see." Drew finished, imitating May's stammering voice. The brown-haired Coordinator replied with an indignant huff and Brendan hissed something under his breath.

Before May or Drew could say anything, or Brendan could repeat what he had muttered under his breath louder, a particular tall, lanky figure approached the three. May turned around wearing a startled expression as the footsteps approached, only to groan quietly.

"Like Oh Em Gee! May!" A high, feminine voice squealed. Drew distinctly saw a swish of stringy lavender before a huge, slightly tanned face loomed over the three at such close a proximity the green-haired Coordinator could almost hear the gender-confused man breathe.

"Oh… crap." Drew heard May whisper quietly, and Brendan raise an eyebrow disbelievingly as Harley Davidson clutched at the air above his heart with his two spider-like hands, crying words strung together so closely it was hard to differentiate each from the other.

"Hey, who's this?" Brendan hissed to May, obviously confused as Harley began twirling around maniacally, drawing the attention of the people around them. Drew felt himself becoming slightly embarrassed, although he did not leave.

"Just Harley Davidson. One of my rivals. Who's always been trying to make my life living hell." May answered matter-of-factly, her eyebrows too rising into her brown bangs.

"I see." Brendan replied, still under his breath, then paused and added, "He doesn't look like he can do much harm, though," as Harley now mimed a ballerina, twirling so extravagantly that he nearly crashed into a potted plant.

Drew considered leaving, and he was pretty sure May was about to abandon the scene when a crowd began gathering—Brendan still seemed slightly befuddled, although Drew couldn't really care much for the white-haired boy—but Harley had untimely stopped twirling and grabbed May's right wrist. Apparently he grabbed pretty hard, too, since the brown-haired Coordinator winced at the contact, even if her wrist was protected by her long fingerless dandelion gloves.

"Oh, May, where do you think you're going?" Harley asked in a sly but disgustingly sweet voice. May winced again in reply.

"Dearie, you weren't trying to escape me, weren't you?" At the end of his question, the lavender-haired gender-confused man gasped in mock surprise. Drew was acute of the fact that the crowd was starting to thicken, and Brendan seemed to be aware of this as well, since he stirred a little—not too much, but enough to attract moderate attention.

Harley's sharp eyes noticed Brendan's movements, and he continued to the white-haired boy in the same gross, sweet voice, "May, who's _this_?" The lavender-haired man was obviously indicating Brendan—and the white-haired Trainer began looking uncomfortable.

"That's Brendan." May said grudgingly, as if she did not want to talk to Harley, which, Drew reckoned, was probably the last thing on earth she wanted to do.

"_Brendan_, eh? Could he probably be the son of Richard Birch, the esteemed professor? I heard the Prof had an albino son." Harley asked, batting his eyes unnecessarily. His actions freaked out the three younger Trainers.

"Yeah, that'd be me." Brendan answered defiantly, rescuing May from the horrible prospect of answering Harley. The brown-haired Coordinator seemed excessively grateful, and Drew instantaneously felt an odd, jealous feeling well up inside of himself.

Harley's attention seemed to snap back to Brendan, and Drew heard a faint gulp coming from the white-haired boy. "And what exactly, is your relationship with young May?"

Before Brendan could open his mouth to answer, however, the lavender-haired man had steamrollered on. "Oh, I know! Are you _another_ one of May's boyfriends? They seem to be multiplying! Oh, and you even have _matching outfits!_" Harley giggled. May looked very much indignant, and Drew resisted the impulse to smack Harley across the mouth. Brendan seemed to be struggling to do the same. Again, before any of the three could retaliate, Harley had continued on, drawing murmurs from the crowd.

"Tsk tsk, I _knew_ you were a player, May! First that Ash boy, then you stole that weird Jimmy guy from that blue-haired girl, Marina, and all the while you were cheating on Drew!" Harley giggled again, and the crowd's mutterings grew louder and more in number. May's look of indignant turned quickly to one of horror, and both Brendan and Drew's faces purpled. All three were too shocked to speak, and Harley only used the temporary silence to his advantage.

"Oh, just wait until I tell Ash!" Another giggle, and Brendan was visibly shaking. "And Marina!"

May opened her mouth, as if intending to insult Harley. Again, before she could, Wally and Max had pushed their way through the throng, finished with their conversation with Mr. Briney and wearing very bewildered looks. May enlarged the opening of her mouth, as if intending to explain things, but once again, before she could, Harley had interrupted her before she had said anything.

"Oh, Maxie dear!" Harley exclaimed; Max recoiled. Wally looked politely confused. "Long time no see, eh? I believe it was a week we last met, at the Grand Festival! Ah, a bit embarrassing how I lost to your sister, but I believe I have now completely forgiven her for her little spot of cheating! I am a very understanding w—err, I mean man, you know!"

May managed to say something this time. "What the"—and then something that made Wally gasp and Brendan murmur, 'how unladylike of you, May'—"I didn't cheat! I always won fair and square!"

"Fair and square, right!" Harley giggled again, causing all five of them to recoil fearfully. "Ah, I'll let you slip through _again_,"—he emphasized the word 'again' as if his life depended on it—"May, but next time, I swear I won't be so nice!"

Sighing, Harley then continued on before Drew could bark a long-suppressed curse word, "Where're all of you going?"

There was dead silence, until Wally, confused and unsure of himself, answered, "Err… we're going to May's friend's house in Pallet Town, Ash? I don't know if you know him or not…"

May, Brendan, Max, and Drew shot Wally death glares, at which the golden/green-haired boy simply shrugged and continued looking confused.

"Aww! How sweet of you, May, to care about your ex!"—May resumed a look of indignity—"But, how come I wasn't invited? This is an atrocity!" Harley gasped again, clamping his right hand over his mouth.

Wally, clearly very wrong footed, supplied, "I'm sure they can accommodate another person, if you just made some changes in your schedule…"

The four shot Wally death glares again, but Harley seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Oh, is that really, May?"—before May could say 'No,' Harley had continued—"That's wonderful! Simply wonderful! I'll have to make a few phone calls and then I'll be all set!"

Harley disappeared through the crowd, evidently looking for a phone he could borrow or find an elevated area to make a Match Call. The crowd dissipated, although not with much under-breath exchanges of gossip, and several people cast May looks of intense dislike. The brown-haired Coordinator looked both enraged and crestfallen, and seeming unable to control her anger, vented it on Wally.

"Wally!" May exploded. Wally shrunk back, clearly fearful of his own mortality as May's face turned red with fury. "HOW COME YOU TOLD HARLEY THAT HE COULD COME? NOW OUR REUNION WILL BE RUINED!" At the end of her small rant, May let out a desperate shriek of anguish, drawing attention from several others.

"I'm sorry." Wally said, sounding sincere and bewildered at the same time. "I thought he was your friend…"

"More like _stalker_!" May barked.

"Er… I'm sorry." Wally repeated, as if trying to get the point across.

May's head seemed to deflate and Brendan dared look again, while Drew approached closer and Max sighed with relief. She then seemed to realize just how much of a barbarian she had sounded and said quickly, "I shouldn't have yelled at you… it was my fault I didn't interrupt Harley."

"No, it was really my fault." Wally apologized again, and the matter seemed to have been resolved. _In terms of apologies, in any case,_ Drew thought.

"But what are we going to do now?" Max blurted out, looking scared at the prospect of Harley accompanying them on their journey.

The group did not have time to worry and had plenty of time to wish themselves dead when Harley sauntered over, done with his suspiciously short 'phone calls', and engaged them in conversation about May's love life.

**Pallet Town, Kanto**

Garrison Blue-Green Oak continuously mulled over a certain conversation he had had with his rival, Ash Ketchum, six hours ago. The one about the girlfriends, to be exact. The whole conversation made him jumpy in ways more than one—although seeing his rival after so long was enough to make him jumpy.

He was rather surprised that Ash had been date-less for sixteen years, but then again, was surprised that he himself had been. Of course, Gary could always phone one of his cheerleaders and ask them out, but he had personally never liked them nor taken the trouble to get to know them.

Gary had 'abandoned' them for six years, already. Well, actually he had just filed for one of those 'stay at least 300 yards away from me' legal declarations, and thankfully, he had gotten it. Those cheerleaders were getting really annoying, after all, and he hated paying for all of them at restaurants… not to mention how they always insisted on taking showers with him. Thankfully, Gary had declined each of these kind offers.

The auburn-haired Researcher was pretty sure it would have scarred him for all eternity, had he accepted.

Abandoning the troubling thought, Gary repositioned himself on his bed. It was getting rather small for himself—shooting up three inches over the year hadn't helped him much. The seventeen year old was plenty tall enough already. Hovering at six feet five made him highly uncomfortable around others, although the auburn-haired Trainer always masked this awkwardness over a fatigue of patronization.

Gary glanced through the window opposite of his bed, right at the other house—identical in every way to his own, except for its occupants. He wished he could see into Ash's room, but curtains had been drawn over carefully. Then Gary wondered why he thought that.

Shrugging, the auburn-haired Researcher sat up, and then left his bed, deciding that he would sleep on the floor until Gramps bought him a new one. God knows the old man had enough money—Gary had seen it with his own eyes, one day when he was five on the screen of his Grandfather's computer. He recalled being pushed away rudely after that incident.

Then deciding he was hungry, Gary trotted down the stairs, only to notice dissatisfactorily that there was no lunch on the table. His brain, always sharp, registered this immediately and he shouted angrily, "Gramps! How come there's no food!"

The wizened professor peeked out from behind the kitchen door, wearing a pink apron that caused Gary to raise an eyebrow at him. He wondered what happened to the normal cyan one they wore when cooking, but his hunger was getting the better of him. "Have patience, Garrison; can't you see I'm in the process of making it? It's a bit embarrassing how you, a full-grown seventeen-year-old, can't fix a proper meal for nothing. I recall all that you ate on your Pokemon journeys were sandwiches."

"Don't call me that." Gary snapped; face reddening with the attack on his pride. He placed his head on his hand, and slammed his elbow onto the surface of the unclothed oak table.

"Fine, Gary." His grandfather answered, rolling his eyes before shutting the door. Gary distinctly heard the sound of the oven ringing, and Gramps exclaim "ahh!" but not in a 'help-me-I'm-dying'-Ahh that he used every so often. It was more an exclamation of delight. _Whatever the food is, it better be good_, Gary mumbled inwardly, picking up his silverware.

The door opened again, and his grandfather emerged, wearing large pink kitchen gloves and clutching the two sides of a large tray. Inside, lay a neatly-sliced two-inch thick brownie-sheet. Gary could practically taste the food in his mouth already, and couldn't care less if it looked like it should be for dessert.

Without thinking much, the auburn-haired Researcher reached out his left hand for a large brownie in the middle, but instead cursed loudly when his grandfather smacked his hand away.

"Language, Gary." The professor said mildly.

"Why can't I eat it?" Gary demanded incredulously as he watched with wide, muddy-brown eyes his grandfather proceed to wrap the cover with a transparent filament that Gary forgot the name off.

"Because it's for the dinner party tonight," The old man explained matter-of-factly, with all the slowness of a teacher explaining to a first-grader that one plus one equaled two. Gary reddened. "At Ash's. You know, right?"

"Wha? Of course I do!" Gary retorted angrily, face reddening again. Fortunately, his grandfather was one of the few people that ever witnessed Gary in such moments of embarrassment. "But what are we eating for lunch?"

A certain black-haired Pokemon Drawer—his hair split into two adjacent parts that Gary always thought looked geeky—hurried untimely onto the scene, bursting in through the front door, although thankfully Tracey Gilmore did not see Gary's face color. Instead, the Drawer seemed intent on saying something, which he did.

"Professor! There's some new people coming to Ash's house!" Tracey exclaimed, jumping up and down in a way that made him look absolutely ridiculous.

"Oh, there is?" Laying down the batch of brownies in the middle of the table, the old man began walking towards the door. Gary, however, did not eat the now-exposed food as he might have done in any other circumstance—not that he really wanted to, his grandfather's cooking was bad enough, but the auburn-haired trainer was ravenous—but instead bolted in front of the Professor and was the first out the front door, although he didn't know why he felt such a sense of urgency.

Tracey had not been incorrect. A small group of people was congregating outside the Ketchums' house. Among them were several Gary instantly recognized: Ash (of course), Ash's mother, that new Dawn girl Gary was forcibly introduced to the previous day not to mention that Paul guy who Gary didn't really like… it was the purple-haired boy's attitude.

There were some new people, though… quite a lot, actually. There was a rather short boy with curly blond hair, wearing a striped white-and-orange T-shirt as well as gray jeans, and a green scarf, engaged in conversation with Dawn, who seemed to be laughing frequently, and a short-haired boy wearing an artist's hat that seemed to share Dawn's exact hair color.

The annoying redhead Misty seemed to be exchanging gossip with a girl with teal hair a shade bluer than Dawn's, whose hair was also tied up in two odd pigtails that Gary thought looked far too childish. Next to the two girls was a black-haired boy wearing a backwards baseball cap and clutching a pool pole, and a maroon-haired boy, who seemed to be sulking and whose bangs covered his right eye—both boys, seeming to be around fifteen or sixteen, in accordance with the blue-haired girl's age, were looking bored..

Before Gary could swagger into the midst of the group, though, Delia Ketchum had caught someone between himself, his grandfather, and Tracey's glance—most likely the middle one—and had hurried over, her terracotta hair pulled into a casual ponytail.

"Oh, hello, Professor Oak!" She beamed, clasping her hands together. The Professor nodded politely in greeting, and Gary mumbled a 'hi, Ms. Ketchum' half-heartedly, wanting to talk with Ash, although he would never admit that to anyone.

Surprisingly, Gary's grandfather let him slip through between Delia and Tracey, who were previously blocking his way. The auburn-haired Researcher breathed a sigh of relief and then swaggered over to Ash, declaring his presence with a loud, "_Hey_ Ashy-boy!"

Unsurprisingly, everyone stopped talking and all heads turned towards Gary, and Ash, whose cheeks pinked. The latter pulled on a mock sad face, and purred without even considering her actions, "What now, Ash, not even a hello?"

The blond boy turned, confused, to Dawn and whispered something along the lines of "Is he—?" but Gary did not hear the rest.

"Hello Gary." Ash said, struggling to keep his voice non-squeaky and normal-sounding. He failed at both.

"Who're all these people, Ash?" Gary asked, bending backwards as if trying to get everyone in full view. Ash continued to pink.

"Err… I guess I should introduce everyone, huh?" Ash asked dully, turning around to look at all the people gathered. Misty rolled her eyes, as if saying 'duh', but Gary couldn't care less about the annoying redhead.

"That's Dawn and Paul, and for everyone who doesn't know, Dawn was my great friend in Sinnoh and Paul was…er… my rival. I haven't beat him yet… but that's why he's here! So I can beat him!" Ash explained to the rest. Paul looked indifferent at the odd reason Ash offered him an invitation to the reunion.

"Misty, and she has been my good friend for quite some time, except she has a beastly tem—please don't kill me!" Ash whimpered, and Misty lowered her mallet, which she seemed to have procured from nowhere. Gary vaguely noticed the redhead tuck the large hammer into her light blue backpack.

"Err… I don't really know the rest of you, so I guess Dawn and Misty should explain…" Ash stepped back, letting Dawn replace him.

"Oh, thank you, Ash!" Dawn said, beaming. The azure-haired girl then coughed importantly and said, "This is Lucas, my twin brother, and he's been Professor Rowan's assistant for some time, though he never quite managed to fill out the Pokedex." The azure-haired boy waved his hand at everyone. "And this is Tyson, one of my old friends!" Dawn beamed again, and Tyson jumped up happily, practically bursting with energy and hastiness.

Dawn then stepped back, letting Misty replace her. "All right, thank you Dawn, and allow me to introduce everyone! This is Marina, and Ash I remember us meeting her first somewhere in the Orange Islands?" Marina and Ash both nodded in confirmation, and the redhead continued. "Anyways, well I couldn't just sever ties with a fellow Water Pokemon Trainer, now could I? So we've been keeping in touch via email and I decided to invite her!"

"But… we didn't bring computers with us on our journeys…" Ash objected quietly. Misty glared at him.

"While we lodged in the Pokemon Center." Misty said dryly, then continued. "So, I guess Marina, you should take over?"

Before the teal-haired girl could replace Misty, however, Ash had suddenly cried, "Oh! I get it now!"

"About time." Gary murmured, and shrugging, Marina took Misty's place.

"All right, so when I got Misty's invite, I decided I had to invite one of my closest friends! Though we've only met once, we've been keeping touch via PokeGear"—Marina indicated the various devices strapped on her left arm—"and email!"

"Where have I heard that before," Gary murmured again, before his grandfather shushed him.

"This is Jimmy!" Marina indicated the black-haired baseball-cap-wearing boy, who grinned widely at everyone. "And that's Jimmy's friend, Silver. I don't really know him, but from what Jimmy's told me, Silver's a cool guy."

The group then lapsed back into talk, although somehow Gary didn't find himself at place with everyone. He tried to talk to Ash, but the black-haired Trainer had already disappeared off to somewhere… Lifting one shoulder up and down in a half-shrug, Gary decided to find him.

They did not know, could not know, that a certain pair of inquisitive turquoise eyes were tracking their every movement from the shadows.

**Sevii Islands, Kanto**

"How efficient," Giovanni said under his breath, as he tossed another ruby-encrusted band at the cornered God of Fire, who gave a feeble squeal as the instrument enlarged, then tightened on a burning wing. Things were going according to plan, and the Team Rocket Leader could hardly wait to collect his part of the trio.

Moltres seemed to strengthen as he stopped struggling. The electricty which had previously paralzyed both of its wings—courtesy of the God of Electricity—faded as the Fire God strengthened.

Rayquaza was a far better flier than any of the Team Rocket helicopters the Leader had been on, in any case. _It's no wonder,_ Giovanni mused, _He did shape the skies after all…I'm glad those scientists got at least one thing right, even though these bands are working terrifically._

Giovanni leapt back on the emerald dragon as the two birds—Zapdos sizzling with electricity and Moltres with flames—flew above them and Moltres hover contentedly on the left-hand side of Giovanni, ready to strike if the Leader gave the word to.

**A/N:**

**This concludes the third chapter to Natural Disturbances! Again, I beg all of you to review! (my actions are getting desperate… 0o and my chapters getting longer)**

**I know the ending was a little bit rushed but I'm just eager to upload the dang thing so I can get it off my mind… and maybe concentrate on school/Johto Adventures, which needs a major redo.**

**Here's the ending stuff I need to get through (ages, full names that we know of, and everything)(some of these names are lame, I know, please excuse me and tell me if you have suggestions I am not a good last-namer :P):**

**14 yrs: Dawn, Lucas, Maya Sapphire Maple  
15 yrs: Andrew Rosalind, Brendan Ruby Birch, Marina, Paul, Tyson, Wally Winter  
16 yrs: Ashton Red Ketchum, Jimmy, Silver  
17 yrs: Garrison Blue-Green Oak, "turquoise-eyes"  
30 yrs: Steven Stone, Wallace  
39 yrs: Delia Ketchum**

**Suggestions on who Tracey should be paired with, anyone?... And there will be some Ikarishipping as well as Dawn x Tyson, even though he's shorter than her. :/**


	4. Party Beginnings

**Welcome to the fourth installation of Natural Disturbances!**

**Prominent Pairings of this Chapter****:  
DrewxMay  
BrendanxMay  
AshxGary  
MistyxBrock  
PaulxDawn**

**Newly Introduced Main to Side Human Characters in This Chapter (Order of Appearance):**

**Turquoise**

**Here it goes!**

**Chapter 4—Party Beginnings**

**Outskirts of Pallet Town, Kanto**

Turquoise had never considered herself worthy.

Her Pokemon would most likely balk at that suggestion—it was her, after all, who fed them despite her own empty stomach, and her who swiped Potions for them when their health was low and they could not risk going to the Pokemon Center for fear of being caught.

She sagged against a tree trunk, hugging her bare knees. Her dirty, red skirt folded backwards, so that they were no longer at knee-length, but at mid-thigh, but personally, Turquoise did not give a damn. If only… if only that stupid... big... BIRD hadn't kidnapped her when she was four! Perhaps she would be elsewhere—perhaps, she would even be invited to that party she had just watched through the bushes now in front of herself.

The tree's leaves shaded the girl from most of the noon sunlight; Turquoise had no objection against this at all, for her skin was relatively pale and she had not shoplifted for well over a week. Musing, she decided that she could sneak into that kid's—'Ashy-boy', was it what that auburn-haired Trainer said?—house and pretend that she knew him.

Yeah, yeah, she could do that! This 'Ash' guy looked like a pushover in any case. Turquoise had certainly gone to more desperate measures before. Exactly how, though, she wasn't sure.

She recalled her past, but there was not much to recall. The odd, multi-colored bird had taken her to a cliff, where, fortunately, there were many berry bushes. After several weeks of torture on that desolate rock, Turquoise had escaped… and she remembered seeing her picture on a 'Lost' sign, but she could not read very well. She could only make out her first name—Turquoise—and her birth place, Pallet Town. But, where she had been taken, surely was not Kanto.

Then, she had tried to tell the pink-haired nurse in the Pokemon Center that she was the girl, the girl on the 'Lost' poster. However, Turquoise was so filthy then that she was merely shooed away by Pokemon she could now identify as Chancey.

Sighing, Turquoise readjusted her wide-brimmed white hat and pulled herself to her feet, her sharp mind already devising a plan as she stretched.

**Pallet Town, Kanto**

Ashton Red Ketchum breathed in great gasps after he had sprinted up the stairway, ran into his room, and shut the door securely behind himself. _Close call,_ he thought to himself as he wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead.

"Oh no," Ash whispered to himself as Gary banged on his door with something most likely his fist.

"Lemme in, Ash! I know you're in there!" Gary's muffled voice barked from the opposite side of the door. Ash took a deep breath, and slammed all of his weight against the door to prevent Gary from coming inside. In response, he received an equally heavy slam against his door. "C'mon Ash, what are you, afraid of little Gary?"

"Shut up!" Ash cried angrily, pressing even harder against the door. "I can't—I don't want to talk to you right now!"

"What?" Gary demanded. The pressure on Gary's side of the doorway immediately lifted.

"Not… right… now!" Ash choked, fumbling with his Pokeballs if he had to call out one of his larger Pokemon to take on Gary.

"Fine." Gary said, his voice indifferent and emotionless. Ash heard footsteps, and when he deemed that the coast was clear, sighed in relief.

Personally, Ash was not so sure exactly why he didn't want to see Gary. Perhaps it was something his mother referred to as 'confrontation', or at least whenever the subject drifted to hand. Ash had always changed the subject out of pure boredom and, to a certain extent, embarrassment. After their most recent discussion, 'girl'-related discussion, anyways, Ash didn't really want to talk to anyone. He needed a little time to come to terms with the confused feelings inside of himself.

Something Ash had never done before.

Shrugging, he walked over to his bed, shoulders sagging. His mother had demanded when he returned from his morning walk with Gary where he had been, and Ash merely shrugged and said, "Out walking with a friend." Delia had then eyed him oddly, but let the moment pass. Ash considered elaborating the details of his 'walk' with his mother, but decided against it. He couldn't risk making a fool of himself in front of Paul, anyways; Delia Ketchum's mouth could be quite large if she didn't watch it.

He considered the exact contents of their conversation. Ash still couldn't quite believe that Gary didn't have a girlfriend, or had a girlfriend, at least, but the black-haired Trainer was almost certain that Gary could get one whenever he wanted. Ash most likely couldn't.

Suddenly, an idea inside Ash clicked. That's right! He could talk to Misty! Misty probably wouldn't tease him if he asked her seriously not to… probably. It was certainly better than trying to handle it on his own, anyways; and maybe Brock could come along. Like the good ol' days. Of course, without Gary coming in and kicking Ash's butt. No, Paul did that now.

With renewed vigor, Ash pushed open the door and headed downstairs, trying to find Misty, but a thought suddenly struck him. May had not yet arrived. Ash wondered where she could be, then decided she was probably still on the ship. Yeah, that was it.

**On the S.S. Tidal, from Slateport, Hoenn, to Pallet Town, Kanto**

"Is he gone?" May Sapphire Maple hissed through the bathroom door.

"Yeah, he went to eat the lunch he missed three hours ago." Brendan's voice hissed back at her.

May breathed loudly in relief. She carefully pushed open the bathroom door and timorously stepped into the Pokemon Center. Her blue gaze swept the healing center for any sign of Harley, and when they failed to find the lavender-haired man, she sighed, and, mirroring her friend Ash so many miles away, wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow.

"Brendan Birch never lies," Brendan said pompously, puffing up his chest. May turned around and saw her white-haired friend striking another pose, and could not help but emit a stray giggle.

"Wow, May, that was the longest time you've ever been in constipation—it beat your previous record by five minutes and seven seconds at a whopping thirty-three minutes and forty-nine seconds!" Max exclaimed, punching a button on his stopwatch. May glared daggers at him before scoffing loudly and averting her gaze.

"No, once she lasted forty minutes and twelve seconds when she lost a Contest against me in Johto," Drew said, slinking out of the shadows with amazing grace. May crossed her arms over her chest at this; Brendan blinked twice with indignation and Wally was nowhere to be seen.

"You—why did you time me, Max? And you, Drew?" May demanded angrily.

Drew let out a rare bark of laughter, and then said, "I was just kidding, May." Max looked sideways at May and murmured something along the lines of 'yeah, what he said'.

Wally suddenly rounded the corner, appearing out of the men's lavatory. He looked at May, politely confused, then opened his mouth and asked, "Were you in there all that time, May?"

Cringing at her golden-green-haired friend's blunt question, May nodded, and Wally's mouth dropped to form an 'o' shape. Drew sniggered loudly, drawing May's attention, and she rounded on him, planting her gloved hands on her waist and said sharply, "What are you smirking at, mister?"

"Your idiocy." Drew replied flippantly, flicking his hair. Brendan's cheeks reddened with suppressed rage; and had May looked in a mirror, she would find that the color of Brendan's face was nothing compared to her own.

"Excuse me?" May asked, blinking.

"You are excused." Drew answered dully.

Scoffing, May crossed her arms over her chest, and proceeded to reply with a curt "Hmph!"

"Hmph—that's all you have?" Drew asked disbelievingly. There was a long silence.

"No." May replied slowly.

There was another long silence. This one was longer and more awkward than the previous. Max seemed to have disappeared off to somewhere, else he surely would have made a smart remark.

"Fine! You win!" May relented. Drew smirked satisfactorily and flipped his hair. Brendan made a rude gesture with his right hand at Drew that the green-haired Coordinator fortunately missed, as his eyes were closed patronizingly.

Drew opened his mouth, undoubtedly about to make another rude comment, but he was both fortunately and yet very much unfortunately interrupted by Harley, whose cheeks were stuffed with food. May, with widened eyes, looked at Brendan, who seemed to quiver under her demanding glare as to why the lavender-haired Coordinator had 'finished' his lunch so quickly.

"May-ay! It's about time you stepped out of the bathroom! What did you eat for breakfast, anyways?" Harley chided, clasping his two hands together. Glancing at Brendan and Wally helplessly, May grudgingly opened her mouth to answer. She was predictably interrupted by Harley. "Ooh, let me take a guess! I bet I'll get it right on the first try!" Looking pointedly at Brendan and Wally, who both gulped quietly with apprehension, Harley said in his infamous grossly sweet voice, "You two won't _believe_ the things I saw May eat! Why, once she even ate a—"

By now, May was on the verge of explosion, and she had already worked up the nerve to interrupt with, "Your disgusting cookies!"

Of course, May knew this wasn't true—in fact, she rather liked Harley's cookies, although they were a bit on the dry side, and she had told him that they were 'pretty good', and he had seemed to appreciate the sentiment (although, of course, May would later learn this was not true). She did seem to notice that Harley appeared to be very sensitive in areas regarding his cooking, and his somewhat matronly fatigue slipped to reveal such nasty a snarl that Wally recoiled.

A split second later, however, Harley had re-plastered on his fake, wide smile. "May, May, May," He began in a deceptively slow and kind voice. "How could you say that about my cookies? You even said that they'weren't half bad' yourself! Oh, how vividly I remember that historical day: there you were, nibbling on one of my famous peanut butter cookies, and then you said 'They're not half bad, Mr. Harley!' I remember those were your very words! Ahahah! Don't even try to deny it, May!"

By now, the lavender-haired man was looking delusional, and May fought hard to mask her disgust and contempt for her older rival/stalker. She started to say, "Uh, I guess we should—"

May was then interrupted for the who-knows-what time that day, although this time it was not by Harley. The sound of a horn filled the entire ferry, and the brown-haired Coordinator looked around in confusion—Wally and Brendan seemed equally disoriented, but Drew managed somehow to maintain a cool expression. Harley, too, looked as if he had already expected the horn-call.

"Oh wow, we're several hours early, aren't we?" Harley giggled before May or anyone else could say anything about the call. Then, suddenly, dreadful realization overcame May that was only enhanced when Harley said, "We're here at Pallet Town! Yay! I can finally tell Ash that you've been rendezvousing with one of your old boyfriends!" Brendan looked highly affronted; May did not know whether to laugh or cry.

Before she could do either, though, a stream of people exiting from both genders' lavatories began streaming out, and May was pushed outside of the lavatory entrance and onto the deck. Squinting as her eyes readjusted to the new sunlight, she brushed a stray lock of brown hair away from her eyes and turned to face her companions in the hope that Harley would suddenly implode, which he did not.

"Yay! Let's go!" Harley cried gleefully, grabbing May's hand. The brown-haired Coordinator fought valiantly to rid herself of Harley's grip, but as usual, did not succeed.

She nearly fell on her face as the lavender-haired man pulled her through the crowd and down the wooden plank leading off of the ship. Vaguely registering loamy soil beneath her feet, May had to lunge forwards to stop herself from toppling onto her side, and nearly gagged when Harley began giggling, although thankfully in this 'laugh-fest' he released his grip on her.

"May, are you all right?" Wally asked tentatively, helping May to her feet. She nodded and braced herself to sprint into the thick wilderness that blocked the way from the small port to Pallet Town. In fact, May was already creeping away as quietly as she could manage until Max burst off of the ferry.

"Oh, hey May! I thought the ferry was going a little slow so I got Sharpedo to give things a little… er… boost." Max said somewhat sheepishly. His sister turned around to face him, her blue eyes glazed over with pure anger, since him talking had re-attracted Harley's attention and thus ended his giggling.

"May, you weren't trying to escape me again, were you?" Harley asked coyly.

"Of… of… of course not," May squeaked, choking out the words with all her might and but meaning the exact opposite. She found difficulty in breathing, and perhaps her expression was a little funny, since she heard Drew cough quietly in the background. Luckily for the green-haired Coordinator, Harley did not notice this.

"Ah, May, I knew you'd say that!" Harley exclaimed, positively beaming. He darted forwards with his arms outstretched, undoubtedly intending to embrace May; but she sidestepped him in the nick of time. While her swift dodge was most fortunate for herself, it was very much unlucky for Drew, who was now on the receiving end of Harley's bear-hug, considering the fact, that it was very hard for one to veer away when one was almost parallel with the ground.

The look on Drew's face was filled with so much disgust that May felt a little bad for him, although she wouldn't give anything to replace him. Harley seemed to realize that he had missed his original target and quickly pulled away. May could've sworn she saw Drew breathe a sigh of relief, but before she could tease her green-haired rival about the unpleasant phenomenon he had just esc aped, Harley had thrust himself forwards, towards May again.

May dodged the hug nimbly, nearly crashing into her brother as she did so. Wally, who had been standing idly behind May before she had dodged Harley's second hug-attempt, ended up being embraced heartily by the lavender-haired Coordinator. The golden-green-haired Breeder's face grew aubergine, although whether it was due to lack or air or bottled-up rage, May did not know. Before Wally's frail lung condition could be truly activated by Harley's death embrace, though, Harley had pulled away again, looking miffed that his hug had been misplaced.

Consequentially, Harley burst forwards again. May dodged Harley once more, and this time Max became the one who was hugged by Harley. The young boy whimpered, with either embarrassment or pain—in any case, the lavender-haired Coordinator seemed to have tightened his embrace with every missed try, most likely out of frustration. Wheeling around, Harley threw himself towards May again.

With all the speed that May had managed to attain from dashing from Contest Hall to Contest Hall in Johto, she dodged Harley for the fourth time. As a result, Harley hurled towards Brendan. Surprisingly quickly, Brendan whipped off a Pokeball from the emerald belt strapped around his waist and sent out one of his Pokemon.

Brendan's Gallade exploded out of his Pokeball, looking rather muddled. He absorbed the impact of Harley's hug. Then, after Brendan nodded curtly to him, the Blade Pokemon carefully eased Harley off of himself with a—May felt—overly gentle 'Psychic' attack. The lavender-haired Coordinator flew through the air, landing a generous three meters away from May, Drew, Brendan, Max, and Wally.

Glaring insolently at the Blade Pokemon, who was looking politely bemused, Harley stood up. May thought she saw Harley's right hand twitch in the direction of one of the Pokeballs on his jeans-belt, but then the moment passed and May was left wondering if she had seen what she had seen.

Then, all the anger wiped from his face, Harley turned towards May, wearing a hideous smile that was surely an ominous indication of the events to follow. That, May was almost certain of, and just before Harley opened his mouth to say something, the brown-haired Coordinator was struck by the thought of how Ash would look when Harley would begin jabbering about May's 'boyfriends'.

**Outside of the Ketchum Residence, Pallet Town, Kanto**

"You're kidding me." Misty Waterflower said, her face utterly deadpan. Her mind, though, was struggling to digest the large amount of information it was forced to process over the hour-and-a-half Ash had spent talking to her about his morning. Misty was surprised that he could even recall such fine details of his dawn walk with Gary Oak; things such as how many times Gary could breathe in a minute and how many steps it took Gary to walk a meter.

"I'm not! Those were his exact words!" Ash insisted; his face was remarkably straight. Misty doubted the whole thing, though.

"You're trying to tell me that _Gary Oak_ doesn't have and never had a girlfriend." Misty said skeptically.

"Yeah…" Ash began slowly. "So… what do you think of that? I mean, do you think he was telling the truth or not?"

"You want my honest opinion?"

"Yes!" Ash cried impatiently, flinging his arms exasperatingly into the air.

"I think that either A) Gary was lying; B) you heard him wrong; C) his hotness, or so you put it, worked against him, or D) he's gay." Misty answered, counting off the four possibilities on her fingers. Looking up, the water-typed Gym Leader discovered to her surprise that Ash's facial expression was a blend of mild shock and confusion… and… could that be a glimmer of hope in Ash's melanic eyes?

Misty blinked. Did… did Ash Ketchum's eyes light up at the mention of possibility D? _No, no, that couldn't be,_ Misty told herself, _No… that couldn't be it… it just… couldn't… Ash… he—Ash… Ash… can't possibly be—?_

Her train of thought was abruptly interrupted when Ash pressed on, "Well… which one do you think it is?"

The hope in his voice was unquestionable, unmistakable now. Misty felt a small portion of herself—the part which had been harboring hope that maybe, just _maybe_, Ash Ketchum _like-_liked her—be quickly demolished by what she had just learnt… then again… no, Ash couldn't, well… could he? _No, he couldn't_… Misty desperately wanted to believe.

"Oh, hey, look, isn't that Brock?" Ash's voice said, wafting over to Misty from what seemed to be from a long distance away. Then, Misty suddenly realized the contents of Ash's words and raised her head to see a tall figure in the distance wave to them.

Misty waved back, but Ash was already running forwards to greet their friend. Raising an eyebrow in amusement, Misty proceeded forwards, only to notice that there was something suspiciously secretive about Brock's smile. Normally, she would choose to bat around the bush for the reason (and more often then not the reasons would be mundane), but today she decided to be painfully direct.

"Why are you smiling?" Misty demanded, raising her eyebrows at Brock while eying his soil-covered brown jacket apprehensively, wondering how long it took him to get here from Pewter City. Surely it couldn't have taken too long, could it? Too late, she realized that perhaps she should have been kinder with greeting him… it had been three years since they last met, after all.

"Who are you? One of Misty's sisters?" Brock asked confusedly. Misty's eyebrows rose higher, disappearing into her flaming orange hair, but before she could correct him, Brock had continued. "Well, whatever! You're hot! I'd ask you out but I already landed a hot date! Maybe some other day!"

The ex-Gym Leader already had one knee on the ground and was rummaging around in his jacket's pockets for something. Her throat feeling inexplicably dry, Misty said, "I'm Misty."

"Wha?" Brock asked, nearly landing on his back in bewilderment. His permanently squinted eyes raked Misty's body, and she felt very much self-conscious. "You can't be Misty. You've actually got… er… you know." He indicated the area directly below Misty's neck.

"What?!" Misty shrieked, whipping out her mallet. Before Brock could say something—anything—in his defense, though, the redhead was already slamming her hammer on his back with undeniable force. She indistinctly noticed Ash sigh out of the corner of her eyes, but right now she was focused on causing Brock as much pain as possible.

After another minute, Misty leapt back, breathing heavily as Brock straightened up. The dark-skinned Breeder was covered in black-and-blue bruises—Misty began feeling a little bit sympathetic for him, but then she reminded herself what he had said and felt fully vindicated.

"Wow Misty, I think you hurt him." Ash said, helping Brock to his feet. Misty simply scoffed and turned her head to her right.

"I was just kidding, Misty," Brock groaned, rubbing a particularly large bruise on his neck. Misty turned her gaze back to her friend, trying to decide whether he was kidding or not. Deciding then to give Brock the benefit of the doubt, Misty nodded stingily.

"So… hello Brock." Ash said lamely, forcing a smile.

"Hey, Ash." Brock said, mockingly waving a hand. Turning towards Misty, he said, "Misty."

Misty simply nodded in greeting, then decided that she might as well try to be polite in an attempt to cover up her random burst of barbarianism (not that she wasn't justified, oh no, that she was.) "So, I guess we should do some catching up, then?" She asked, gesturing towards both boys.

"Why not?" Ash asked, eyes glazing over with anticipation. Suddenly Misty began wondering if this was a good idea after all, but before she could veer the conversation in another direction, Ash had already begun. "Well, I caught a Turtwig, who's a Torterra now," Ash indicated a Pokeball strapped on his topaz Poke-belt, "And I also got me a Starly, who's a Staraptor now. Aipom evolved into Ambipom, Pikachu's, well, Pikachu, speaking of which, where the heck did he go? Anyways, I put Corphish back into my team"—at the mention of a water-typed Pokemon, Misty's nodded in approval—"and then I found a Water Stone and evolved Corphish into Crawdaunt—a decision I'm somewhat regretting… but… anyways, I caught a Snover when we were near Snowpoint City… well, I guess she should be evolving pretty soon. Anyways, I collected all the badges and challenged the League! I nearly won, too, but Paul nabbed first place… Well, that's me! Brock, I guess it's your turn!"

Brock began, slightly hesitantly as if he were unsure of his own abilities after Ash's long speech. "Well… er… I caught a Bonsly and a Croagunk and I hatched a Happiny from an egg I received… they all evolved, though Happiny's only a Chancey." He then paused, as if he weren't sure what to say next. "Oh, and when I got back to the Gym, I put Steelix, Crobat, and Forretress back on my Team. Oh, and maybe I should tell you about my d—"

"I'm sure there will be plenty of time later on for you to describe her," Misty cut in, although for some unknown reason Misty felt deeply distrustful of Brock's date, whoever this was, and the familiar vibe of intense jealousy she experienced whenever Brock would 'propose' to a 'hot' girl that would cause her to tug on Brock's ear and pull him away coursed through her.

She then became aware of Ash and Brock looking expectantly at her, and decided that she should begin talking. "Er… I didn't catch many Pokemon since we last met. All I've basically been doing was staying in Cerulean Gym, really. Right now though, my Team's made up of: Azurill, who I think is bouncing around in Professor Oak's lab as of now, Starmie, Gyarados, Horsea, Goldeen, and Psyduck."

"Huh." Ash remarked. Brock didn't quite know what to say, seeing that apparently, apart from her looks, Misty had remained pretty much the same.

Misty was about to ask Ash about his new female traveling companion. May, Misty felt, was okay in terms of flirtatiousness (had the brown-haired Coordinator displayed even the smallest sign of affection that exceeded the boundaries of friendship, Misty didn't know whether or not she'd be able to suppress her anger—the whole Melody incident was enough to make Misty want to scream in any case). However, that Dawn girl… well… any girl who's skirt was that short was trouble, Misty felt. But she was interrupted by Ash.

"Hey, look, isn't that May?" Ash asked, pointing towards the wilderness to the south of Pallet Town. Misty and Brock simultaneously turned towards where Ash was pointing, and sure enough, six figures were making their way towards the small town. "But… I thought that she'd only bring Drew or Max?"

Disregarding May's group's questionable amount of people, Ash began sprinting towards his ex-traveling companion, Brock walking at a considerably slower pace towards May and her five friends. Misty grimaced, bracing herself for Ash giving another speech about his adventures in Sinnoh, but walked towards May and the others nevertheless.

Perhaps the first person Misty noticed in May's group was the man in the Cacturne costume. If there was a word Misty would have given to describe the lavender-haired man, Misty would have chosen 'queer.' She wondered how May came to know the cosplaying man (it was a man, right?) in any case, but her gaze had drifted to the other members of May's small group.

There was Max—Misty recalled being the one to comfort him after he was separated from May briefly, Team Rocket's handiwork, of course. Her feelings towards the dark-blue-haired boy were pretty neutral in any case, and so Misty soon felt her attention drifting away.

She spotted May next, who had matured from the twelve year old girl that Misty had known for a few days two years ago. But Misty didn't really know May much, and besides, there were still three people she had not examined yet, so Misty looked at them.

A thin boy with golden-green hair caught her attention. He seemed somewhat frail, and the shy way he carried himself seemed to accentuate this to a certain degree, although his step was bouncy, perhaps reflecting a usually energetic personality. Misty had never sight eyes on him before in any case, and she looked elsewhere.

Another boy with a shock of white hair contained by a green headband stood next to the frail-looking boy. Misty thought he looked familiar but did not recognize him—perhaps he had appeared in a newspaper or magazine somewhere and she had forgotten him… yeah, that was it, probably. He was pretty tall for his age, which Misty guessed was fifteen or sixteen or somewhere around there, and lean, as well.

Looking away from the albino, Misty turned her gaze towards the last member of the group. Her heart skipped a beat—it was_ Andrew Rosalind! The _Andrew Rosalind! The Gym Leader had to fight very hard to stop herself from shrieking fan-girlishly, having never envisioned herself meeting such a famous Coordinator such as him. As of now, Drew was looking bored and harassed, and for some reason Misty began hoping that this was because of May. Misty wondered if she would actually get to see Drew flip his hair in person.

Drew seemed to have noticed Misty gawking at him, because he shifted uncomfortably and muttered something to May, who turned towards him and hissed something back. Misty didn't really care if they were talking behind her back (although technically they were right in front of her) because she was bubbling with happiness at the thought that she, Misty, was going to a party which Andrew Rosalind was also attending.

Unexpectedly, Ash also noticed Misty swooning at the sight of Drew and, raising a black eyebrow in puzzlement, carefully pulled the redhead away and drew a deep breath, as if preparing to make a long speech. Before he could, however, the lavender-haired man had already started, and Misty thought she saw the brown-haired Coordinator sigh.

"Hi Ash!" The Cacturne-dressed man said in a dangerously high, feminine voice. Misty frowned; something was clearly amiss. "You remember me, right? I'm Harley! Oh, hey, Brock! You remember me too, right?"

"Only too well." Brock muttered dryly.

Harley continued without flinching at Brock's comment, "I guess I should introduce everyone to you three, huh? Oh, wait, who's this?" The man's aubergine eyes turned towards Misty, and she began feeling very uncomfortable.

Nobody said anything. Misty half-expected Harley to say something, but he didn't.

Finally, deciding to break the monotony, Misty supplied, "I'm Misty, the current Gym Leader of Cerulean City."

A spark appeared in Harley's eyes. "Are you really? And what is your relationship to dear ol' Ash?"

"We're—" Misty began. However, she caught May's glare and was surprised to discover that it was antagonist and immediately quieted; she then began regretting the decision to turn silent as Harley took advantage of the calm only too well.

"Oh, I know, I know! You're Ash's other girlfriend, right?" Harley asked, positively jumping up and down with joy. Misty didn't quite know what to say—she glanced towards Ash, whose face was a startling shade of puce, and then at Brock, who, surprisingly, was also purple-faced. "Ah, I guess May's not the only player around here, then!"

"Wait, what?" Misty's eyes widened. May flushed crimson, and the white-haired boy did as well.

"Didn't you know, dear Misty?" Harley asked in a mockingly incredulous voice. He looked as if he were about to say something else, too, but a figure running towards them caught the attention of Dawn, who burst through the Ketchums' house's door, sprinting towards the approaching figure. They all, including Harley, looked towards that direction.

"Like oh my god! Zoey!" The azure-haired Coordinator cried, flinging her arms around the figure, who Misty noticed with some satisfaction was a redhead, although her hair was considerably spikier and much more tomboyish than Misty's own. Curiosity aroused, Misty decided to listen in on their conversation.

"Sorry I'm a little late." Zoey replied in a somewhat embarrassed voice, as if ashamed of her tardiness. Dawn simply beamed at her and tightened the embrace. Zoey then looked towards Misty's group's direction and nodded at them. "I see most people have arrived."

"Yeah, you are kind of late…" Dawn said in a sarcastic voice. "Where were you, anyways?"

"Fetching him." Zoey said with a slight grin, jabbing a thumb over her back. Misty noticed Dawn raise her eyebrows in disorientation, but soon enough, a figure of medium height had stepped through a thicket of bushes. A few leaves were stuck in attire of green T-shirt and long khaki pants. His ginger hair had been styled so that a bang swept horizontally right atop his taupe eyes. Misty almost instantly recognized him as one of the top eight placements in the Sinnoh Grand Festival Cup, (photo courtesy of _Coordinator Spotlight!_, a magazine Misty subscribed to) although his name she had forgotten.

"Kenny!" Dawn beamed again, releasing her hug on Zoey and throwing herself at the ginger-haired boy. He murmured something that Misty could not hear, but in response the orange-haired girl could clearly see Dawn's cheeks glow fuchsia, and the azure-haired girl proceeded to quickly pull away.

Harley seemed to have forgotten May's love life in the midst of the reunion, and was watching Dawn, Zoey, and Kenny with an expression filled to the brim with contempt and revulsion. When she seemed to notice, May heaved a huge sigh of relief and leaned on the white-haired boy, who blushed furiously. Misty thought she saw the corner of Drew's mouth spasm—but then the moment passed and Misty was left wondering if she had seen it at all or not.

"Let's go, hurry hurry hurry!" Max hissed, shoving his sister off of the albino, much to the white-haired Trainer's displeasure (at least to how Misty interpreted his reluctant grumble). They all listened to the Max, however, and crept quietly towards Ash's quarters. Incredibly, Harley did not follow them, and Ash quickly bolted the door as soon as the golden-green-haired boy entered the house.

"Close call," Drew muttered, almost inaudibly. Misty nodded fervently, wanting to appear cool in front of the famous Coordinator. May did not seem to appreciate Misty's fervency and resumed an uncharacteristic scowl that caught the attention of Drew. "What are you frowning at, May?"

"Frowning? I'm not frowning. Do I look like I'm frowning to you?" May asked, frowning. The white-haired Trainer coughed quietly and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling before Drew could retort; May looked towards him. After a while, the brown-haired girl's face lit up, as if realizing that she had forgotten to do something.

"Oh, right! Er, Ash, Misty, Brock, this is Brendan and Wally, and Misty, this is Drew," May said hurriedly, gesturing towards the white-haired, golden-green-haired, and green-haired boys, who indicated with blinks when their names were mentioned, although Drew smirked when May said his name. Evidently May had already explained to Brendan and Wally who Ash, Brock, and Misty were, since she did not offer an introduction for them. "Brendan and Wally're both my good friends, and I thought I'd invite them. I hope it's okay…" Trailing off, May raised her eyebrows suggestively towards Ash. When he returned her stare, dumbfounded, May looked towards Brock.

"I'm sure it's all right." Brock said helpfully, extending a hand in greeting towards Brendan, which Brendan shook; after the white-haired Trainer released his grip, Brock shook Wally's offered hand.

Realizing then that it was only polite, Misty offered her hand towards Wally; and thus, a lot of handshakes were made.

"What are we going to do now, then?" May asked bluntly after she finished shaking Misty's hand. They all turned towards Ash, who, after five seconds, took in the fact that they were all staring at him.

"I guess we should go eat dinner—outside," Ash said, gesturing towards the window where Delia Ketchum was placing dinner plates on a clothed table and a Mr. Mime was throwing knifes onto the counter using his psychic powers with great gusto.

"That sounds great! Boy, am I hungry," May said cheerily. As if on cue, her stomach grumbled. Max indicated disgust by imitating gagging, and earned a smart slap across the back of his head.

"I don't think you're the only one," Brock said wryly as Misty's stomach gave a traitorous growl. The redhead was busy contemplating whether or not to use her mallet on the Breeder for the second time that day, but as Ash brushed past her in a sprint for the dining table outside, Misty's stomach growled again and she decided that she may as well acknowledge Brock's truthfulness and headed outside.

**Outside of the Oak Residence, Pallet Town, Kanto**

Paul Samuels eyed everyone seated around the table condescendingly, fingering his silverware with apprehension, his gaze lingering briefly on Dawn's short skirt—the azure-haired girl in question was conveniently seated to his left. To his irrepressible annoyance, however, Ash had chosen to sit on his right. It was all Paul could do to stop himself from making a snide comment about Ash's Pikachu, who had leapt onto the black-haired Trainer's shoulder smoldered in dirt after the dinner had formally begun and Professor Oak had declared optimistically, "Tuck in!"

He began wondering why he had come in the first place. Perhaps it was for the mere satisfaction of defeating Ash for the—by Paul's count—forty-ninth time. Paul didn't truly think Ash to be a completely horrible Pokemon Trainer, compared to some of the most pathetic losers he had come by in his Pokemon Journey, in any case, although the maroon-haired Trainer could name off of the top of his head several dozen others who could easily defeat Ash in battle. (Ash was still pretty bad.) And to think that merely 'trust' in one's Pokemon could lead to a victory in battle—_why,_ Paul thought, whoever thought that must seriously lack brains.

In fact, Paul could have simply said 'no'. The disappointed look that would surface on Ash's face would be fulfillment enough for Paul's narcissistic desires anyways. Paul was almost certain that he had an alternative motive for wanting to come, although he wasn't sure exactly what it was—in any case, it was surely not the party itself; no, Paul didn't like parties, much. Too many pathetic idiots (like Ash) running around the place.

His gaze absentmindedly floated back towards Dawn's presumably blissfully bare legs, only to notice that the girl had covered her lap with a napkin. With discontent and some self-scorn, Paul looked to his dinner plate and then at the large servings of food on the table. He wasn't especially hungry, but, looking at Ash, if Paul didn't help himself to food now there might not be any for him in the near future.

Sighing, the maroon-haired Trainer reached forwards with his spoon in his left hand—yes, he was ambidextrous—towards a mountain of mashed potatoes. Out of the blue, a hand smacked Paul's and he turned, wide-eyed, towards his left, where the hand had smacked his own came from. Perplexed, he found himself staring at an offended-looking Dawn.

"What do you want from me, friend-of-loser's?" Paul asked, rubbing his wrist where Dawn had hit him, making sure to shoot her one of his infamous glares. She wilted a little under the maroon-haired Trainer's intimidating look, but did not avert her gaze. It then struck Paul how well her amethyst eyes complemented her azure hair.

"Don't call me, or Ash, that." Dawn said indignantly, placing her pair of chopsticks besides her plate and folding her arms over her chest and glaring back at Paul, which he returned with even greater menace.

"I'm merely pointing out the obvious," Paul said coldly. Dawn's face grew a light pink, and she opened her mouth to say something, but Paul cut across her. "Why did you hit me, anyways?"

"There's a public spoon, thank you very much." Dawn replied, indicating a wooden ladle hidden behind the mashed potatoes that Paul had not seen before.

"Who are you, my mother? I can do as I please," Paul said in an indifferent voice, although he longed to be able to argue heatedly—but alas, he knew that he would flatten Dawn in two seconds blindfolded. However, Paul complied to Dawn's wishes and used the wooden ladle to spoon mashed potatoes into his own plate, although the reason as to why he did so even Paul was unsure of.

"Strange girl." Paul said to himself as he began eating. _Strange indeed…_ The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and the maroon-haired Trainer looked behind himself without attracting the attention of others, feeling that he had been watched and he thought he caught a glimmer of turquoise from behind a bush.

**Viridian City Gym, Viridian City, Kanto**

They were late, and they were going to feel the wrath of Giovanni's power.

The leader of Team Rocket, garbed in his usual dark tuxedo, paced the room, his hands folded impatiently behind his back. The Sky High Pokemon hovered a few inches off the ground behind him, looking misplaced in the barren and dingy marble room. Crackling with electricity, Zapdos roosted on a nearby table, and Moltres, crimson gaze fixed determinedly at the door, perched elegantly atop the golden chandelier, flames weakened so as to not scorch his surroundings.

Mewtwo floated serenely to Giovanni's left, three-fingered hands facing each other and legs crossed in a meditative position; ready to strike when Giovanni gave the word to.

Three men, wearing tuxedos similar to Giovanni's own, burst through the door. Moltres gave a startled caw, and Rayquaza hissed menacingly at the new arrivals. Zapdos flexed his wings, but Mewtwo was still floating peacefully. Giovanni glared fiercely at the three men—they cowered under his gaze but did not turn their backs and flee.

With much apprehension, the three Team Rocket Administrators seated themselves at a table opposite Zapdos's. Giovanni looked impatiently but expectantly at them.

"We're sorry, Mr. Giovanni!" The man in the middle cried. The other two nodded quickly. "A couple of stupid Trainers blocked our way, insisting that they wanted to challenge the gym."  
Giovanni nodded quietly, careful to not display any explicit anger. He decided that he did not have time to punish them. "Very well. You are forgiven this time.." Then, turning his back on them, he proceeded in a slower, grander voice, "As you know, Mewtwo has managed to escape me more than once."—Mewtwo did not give any indication he heard his name—"But, I managed to recapture him after several years of tracking. It was a difficult task, but I achieved it.

"Rayquaza, who I trust you are all familiar with, proved to be much harder to capture had he been at full health. Luckily, I managed to locate the Dragon within hours after his famous battle with the two Deoxys's in La Rousse City, when he was severely weakened, and I then caught him using—ah—several electricity devices my scientists created previously.

"But try as I might, I could not bend their wills to mine. Yes, I tried torture, and that only succeeded in sapping their power and paralyzing them to a state that they could not openly retaliate. They still would not obey me; I risked forcing them to the brink of death, and several times I nearly crossed the line.

"Then, after the clash of Groudon and Kyogre in Hoenn, I flew to the scene and gathered the remains of the Red and Blue Orb. My scientists were able to craft…. Ah… controlling devises from these orbs." Indicating the separate bands attached to each of the legendary Pokemon, Giovanni continued, "And now I plan to finish my collection before executing my final plan."

**Author's Notes:**

**Upon completion of this chapter, I officially decide that I like it the least of all the chapters I've already completed. I don't know exactly why, though… strange. I've repeated words too much, and there's probably a lot more wrong with this chapter. I think the characters were also a little OOC, but I'll try to do much better next time.**

**Well anyways, I'll try to complete chapter five as soon as possible to get it off of my head and to work on the second chapter of Johto Adventures. —smacks self for procrastinating— **

**UPDATE as of 10/14/2007: I corrected a typo pointed out by Daydreamer Gal as well as changed a really small but very important detail in the first POV (Turquoise's.)**

**Uh. Review please. (:**


	5. Morning Business and True Beginnings

**Welcome to the fifth installation of Natural Disturbances!**

**This is where the real stuff kind of begins. Well, kind of. I was PLANNING to include lots of action in this chapter. But I guess I just sort of blabber on, and what do you know, ten pages in Word with just 'waking up' bits. . One thing's for certain, though, there will definitely be lots of action in the next chapter. The REAL actual plot is going to begin in the seventh chapter, though… sorry… I'm really slow…**

**There should be enough 'fluffy'-ish parts. First bit is somewhat Originshippy (Steven x Wallace). I'm not very good at writing yaoi though. –scowls- And, well, you probably should just read it.**

**Enough with lame introductions, here we go!**

**Morning Business and True Beginnings**

**Sootopolis City Gym, Sootopolis City, Hoenn**

Steven Stone nimbly leapt on the last patch of ice, which soon cracked under his weight. Instead of falling through the fragile floor, however, the slide leading to the final platform melted to reveal a cement staircase. Readjusting his wine-red scarf which he kept tucked under his tuxedo, the ex-Champion proceeded up the staircase, self-conscious of himself and his black-and-purple tuxedo, which he did not have a chance to iron yet.

The familiar voice of his old friend began echoing off the walls, and Steven instantly recognized the speech Juan gave to newcomers, although the somewhat elderly Water Gym Leader was not the one who Steven seeked. However, out of respect and admiration, the ex-Champion stopped to listen.

"Greetings, challenger. Welcome to zee last challenge you must defeat before truly seeking glory… welcome to zee Sootopolis Gym. Here, your skills as a Trainer eez put to zee ultimate test—both of talent and of artiszzry. For zere is beauzy in skill and skill in beauzy… Let us see, then, who can dance the most gracefully with zare Pokemon, zooday, on zees frigid stage!"

The lights, somewhat dim before, erupted into full-glare many meters above the ex-Champion's head. Steven had to squint to prevent from being temporarily blinded, and even though he had come here many times before, the gray-haired man could not help but feel in awe of the beauty of the stage, completely built of ice, and the impeccable lighting that cast a romantic glow on the various boulders scattered imaginatively around the battle field.

At the far end of the battle field, Steven could see Juan standing in his formal battle-pose, holding a Pokeball on the tip of his long, pale fingers. However, the ex-Champion was not here for a battle, and though he felt somewhat rude starting their conversation without a greeting, Steven asked in what he hoped was not a churlish way, "Where's Wallace?" while striding quickly across the icy stage, wary of sliding across the slick surface.

As he drew closer, Steven saw Juan's façade of frosty intimidation melt away, like the ice had on the staircase, to reveal a puzzled frown. "Steven—?" The white-and-black haired Water Gym Leader asked, cut off by a curt slash of Steven's hand.

"No time for explanations," Steven said, then, realizing that perhaps he had been too strict with Juan, hastily added, "Sorry. I really need to find Wallace. I was told he was here by the message on his PokeNav's answering machine."

Juan's frown quickly turned into an understanding grimace. "Yes, he's over darre," He said, while indicating with his hand behind himself.

"Thanks!" Steven answered graciously. Quickening his pace, the gray-haired man nearly tripped over his own polished shoes and as his feet hit solid ground, he looked around wildly for Wallace.

He didn't have to look so far; the cyan-haired Champion emerged from the shadows after a few short seconds Steven had left the ice platform. It was hard to control the expression of immense relief that flooded his face, and soon the gray-haired man gave up the prospect entirely. "Wallace! I really need to talk to you."

Wallace tilted his head to one side; the two exquisite strands of light-cyan hair that protruded from under his white artist's hat bobbed to one side. "Do go on, Steven," He chided in his usual soothing musical voice that seemed to revive Steven's troubled soul to a certain extent—it always did, but now was not the time to linger.

"My student, Mimi," Steven paused, raising an eyebrow at Wallace, who nodded to indicate recognition. "has revealed a troubling prophecy in the ruins in Celestial Town. I trust you know where that is."

"Yes," Wallace answered, concern in his voice. "What are the exact contents of this… prophecy?"

"I'll tell you." Steven said, dropping his voice. "But we have to spare Juan; I'm afraid he cannot be involved in _this_ crisis."

The corner of Wallace's thin mouth twitched, and his entire thin, angular face began to frown, but he complied and the two middle-aged men hurried to the corner of the Gym, conversing in quiet whispers.

**Ketchum Resident, Pallet Town, Kanto**

Andrew Rosalind woke up with a muffled sigh. He began regretting coming to the party in the first place, mainly because of all the girls. Not that he didn't like girls, of course. It was just that they were… well… acting fangirlishly.

In general, Drew liked the attention he received from fans, but he had hoped quietly for a simple reunion with May and her friends and then leaving without any hassles. He supposed that he was wrong. Of course, seeing May 24/7 was reward enough… though he couldn't say exactly why. He simply liked bathing in her presence.

But of course he would never and probably never will, tell her this.

May… since the first day they had met on that beach in Slateport, Drew had always kept an eye out for her. Her presence in the Coordinating community was one of the things that fueled him in the desire to become the Number One Coordinator. Right now he hovered at about five or so, but this was besides the point.

Drew had never been quite the one to come to terms with his feelings. He didn't have much time for such nonsense anyways, what with practicing for the Contests and all that. Sighing, he pulled himself off of the makeshift bed that Delia Ketchum had so kindly prepared to him the previous day. Ash Ketchum was snoozing peacefully in the opposite side of the room. Drew stifled raised an eyebrows at how deep Ash was in slumber land, and checked the analog clock hanging on the wall.

Seven o'clock. Perfect. As always.

Drew grabbed his clothes he had prepared the previous night from his bedside table and changed hurriedly. Once he was done, he folded his pajamas and tucked it into his small bag before pushing open the door and stepping into the hallway.

The Ketchum residence was not spectacularly large—nothing compared to Drew's own home in La Rousse City, anyways. Of course, Drew would never explicitly insult anyone, besides from May, so he kept these thoughts to himself upon entering Ash's house.

His Roselia's Pokeball began shaking on his jeans-belt. Frowning slightly, Drew unclipped the Pokeball and flung it into the air, making sure not to fling it so high that it would crash into the ceiling. His Roselia emerged in flash of green and purple sparks.

"No need for such theatrics, Roselia, we're not in a Contest Hall." Drew said dryly, clipping to Pokeball back onto his belt and looking patronizingly at his Roselia. In return, the grass-typed Pokemon huffed and withdrew its two roses back inside her spindly green hands and nodded obediently.

Drew didn't know what it was about his Roselia that made her want to come out of her Pokeball. Usually the presence of people would motivate Drew to do that himself, but as there was nobody around, Drew didn't see any point in having his signature Pokemon out. But Roselia seemed to simply want to be there for Drew, as if comforting him. Why, though, remained a mystery to Drew, but he appreciated his Pokemon's sentiment nonetheless, although he wished he had some alone time.

That Misty girl wasn't making things easier. She would nod at every word he uttered, much to his displeasure. (Of course, he never voiced this displeasure.) May didn't seem to like Misty very much for this, though, and Drew found it entertaining to watch May frown every time Misty nodded when Drew said something, since this gave Drew to opportunity to attack her in conversation when she was obviously at a vulnerable point.

Most of these… ah… exchanges would have gone according to Drew's plan had that stupid Brendan person not interfere. Drew would argue with May over some little matter, then point out the stupidity of their entire conversation, implying that she herself was a little dumb, and then right before May would explode, he would toss her a rose, claiming it to be for one of her Pokemon.

The look of confusion and bewilderment on May's face every time this happened was satisfaction enough. At first, Drew hadn't intended for the roses to mean anything—rather, a device to keep May's nose out of his business. But now… he wasn't so sure. Drew did know that he was running out of excuses, anyways.

Continuing down the hallway, Drew walked down a flight of stairs, only to notice with contempt that Brendan was already seated at the dining table. Drew raised an eyebrow at Brendan, whose silvery-white hair was plastered to his neck—obviously he had just exited from a shower, although he was fully garbed. Strange, though, for Drew hadn't heard any water noises. Shaking this thought away, Drew noticed Brendan eating cereal, presumably from the Ketchum's, and seated himself, taking the cereal away from Brendan and pouring it into a bowl of his own.

"That's mine." Brendan said indifferently, snatching the box away from Drew with a haggard scowl on his angular face. The green-haired Coordinator was unused to being affronted like this and merely frowned at Brendan before grabbing an empty glass from the glasses-stand and pouring himself some milk.

Evidently the milk didn't belong to Brendan was well. While the white-haired boy watched Drew with intense dislike, he did not say anything and merely continued to eat his own cereal, spooning each bite quickly into his pale lips at a rather fast speed. The two drank and ate in silence, until Brendan finished.

With one last look of disgust and revulsion at Drew, the white-haired Trainer exited the house. Drew felt a gale of fresh, cool wind hit his face before Brendan closed the door and Drew was left with the humidity of in the indoors.

_Good riddance,_ Drew thought viciously, wearing a satisfied smile. Finishing his bowl of milk, Drew put the now-empty glass in the kitchen sink and looked at his Roselia, who began purring softly.

"What is it now?" Drew asked in annoyance. It was unlike his Roselia to be naggy like this. Usually she complied with his wishes—both spoken and implied—without a second thought, but she seemed to be a little on the rebellious side today. Why, though, Drew did not know.

"Zelll." Roselia replied. A lush red rose bloomed from one of her arms, and a brilliant blue one exploded out of the other. Apparently she was indicating something, but Drew wasn't so sure.

"What's wrong?" Drew asked, irritation melting into concern.

Roselia looked at Drew for a split second before shaking her head and sighing exuberantly. Unused to his Pokemon be so quiet, Drew opened his mouth, about to ask something else, but stopped short. It was pointless. Roselia couldn't talk anyways. Not in English, at least, but at least she tried. "Zell, zelllia," She insisted, indicating with her red rose the direction of the staircase.

"You want me to go upstairs? What is it?" Drew asked, now thoroughly confused. Roselia shook her head pitifully.

"Zelll." She said, frustration in her voice at not being able to communicate her message— whatever that was — to Drew. As a last attempt, she produced a perfect, thorn-less rose by pressing her two roses together and concentrating tightly.

"You mean… May?" Drew asked, finally understanding. Of course it was nearly impossible for him to find a rose bush every time he wanted to give a rose to May, so he always asked Roselia to make one. Perhaps this was what Roselia was trying to say? Indeed, Drew's suspicions were confirmed when the Roselia nodded. "Well, what about May? Is something wrong with her? Does she really have cooties?"

Roselia sighed again and shook her head in disappointment after Drew's last question. "I was just kidding." Drew murmured. After hearing her master's assurance, however, the grass-typed Pokemon seemed to grow a little happier and she began nodding again.

"This could take a while." Drew said to himself as Roselia began making complicated movements in the air using her two roses. Deciding to abandon the surely-futile attempt at communication, the green-haired Coordinator returned his Pokemon in a flash of red light, to her displeasure. Grimacing slightly, Drew pushed open the door and stepped outside, the expected coldness chilling him nonetheless.

* * *

Lucas Diamond Hikari pulled himself out of his light blue sleeping bag, a nasty and most unpleasant ache in his left shoulder, undoubtedly received from sleeping in a cramped position. The blurry form of his friend Tyson's body lay to his right, and on the large bed to his left he could hear Dawn, his twin sister, murmuring something about Poffins in her sleep, her thin left arm dangling wearily from the side of the large, king-sized bed that she had refused to share with anyone yesterday, blushing when Tyson offered to sleep on the opposite end (_it was pretty big,_ anyways, Lucas reflected.) 

Of course, Dawn had to get the best sleeping place; she was the youngest and she needed her 'beauty sleep', though the sharp pain in Lucas's shoulder begged to differ. _Psst, younger by two minutes and thirty-three seconds, and she never lets me forget it, _Lucas thought to himself with much contempt.

Deciding to forgive his sister this time, the azure-haired boy straightened up and yawned magnificently, startling and waking up Tyson, whose smooth face—unmarked by any skin disfigurations of any sort, and frequently complimented upon by Dawn, whose forehead was pimpled and always concealed by her white cloth-hat—was looking somewhat disoriented and whose blond hair had been ruffled in his sleep. Tyson's teal eyes, usually filled to the brim with energy, had been dulled by fatigue.

Eying his blond friend acknowledgingly, Lucas walked over to the bedside table, feeling the soft fabric of his and Tyson's sleeping bags under his feet. He grabbed the pile of clean clothes he had folded neatly the day before, and marched promptly through the doorway, headed straight for the bathroom that was adjacent to the guest room his sister, his friend, and he was staying in, only to discover to his displeasure that someone was occupying it.

Feeling somewhat apprehensive and self-conscious about stripping in the hallway, although nobody was around, Lucas decided to wait impatiently for whoever was in there to get out. He crossed his arms over his satin scarlet pajamas and counted sheep in his head. At last, when the sound of rushing water from the faucet ended, the door eased open and a boy with well-brushed ginger hair stepped out. Lucas recognized him immediately as Kenny—it was hard to mistake his scarily formal attire for anything else. The ginger-haired boy had stowed his usual outfit of green T-shirt and khaki pants and had put on his terra-cotta tuxedo garnished in areas such as the shoulders with woven gold thread.

Lucas frowned. It was unusual for Kenny to dress up like that for no reason, but as the azure-haired boy had no desire to start their conversation with blunt accusations, he said in what he hoped was a passably casual voice, "Hey, Kenny."

The ginger-haired boy's amber eyes flashed with recognition, and hurriedly he replied, "Hello."

It had been over four years since they had last met; Lucas knew that there would be time for catching up but right then it was not—besides, Lucas was almost positive that his breath stank horribly. True, they had done _some_ catching up yesterday, after the dinner, which was good but not as good as Lucas would have liked (then again Lucas was not the one to criticize—he was a hopeless cook), but all they could do was exchange Pokemon Team lineups and Pokedex statuses (Lucas had discovered to his embarrassment that Tyson had captured three more kinds of Pokemon than Lucas had—and he called himself Professor Rowan's assistant?), before a stern Mr. Mine ushered them upstairs to bed at nine, despite Lucas's protests.

After all, Lucas had certain gone to bed later than that before—the most memorable time being when he had stood an all-night vigil to wait for the rare and elusive Rotom to manifest itself in a person's house. The azure-haired boy had earned another entry in his pitiful Pokedex as a reward for his determination, and a powerful new addition to his Team. In fact, capturing Rotom was what had convinced Professor Rowan to upgrade his Pokedex to National Level. This had all been a few day's ago. Of course, Lucas had conveniently neglected to mention the fact that Rotom refused to obey him, but still…

As Lucas continued his silent digressions, Kenny's round, boyish face seemed to twitch with annoyance, and evidently unable to contain his impatience, he asked in an unnecessarily harsh voice, "Well, do you want to use the bathroom or not?" while indicating the pile of clothes Lucas had forgotten he was holding.

"Oh, yeah! Sorry, forgot." Lucas apologized hastily, snapping out of his reverie and cursing his inattentiveness. It was this lack of attention that had caused him to lose so many potential Pokedex entries—this lack of attention that had caused him to let Pokemon slip through his very fingers. Then, realizing that he was getting off-topic, again, Lucas brushed past Tyson and through the bathroom door, shutting it firmly behind himself.

Turning on the faucet, Lucas cupped and splashed refreshingly and startlingly cold water onto his face, careful not to wet his dark blue hair, however short it was already. He identified his purple toothbrush and Sharpedotooth-brand toothpaste—snorting at the others' popular choice of Snoverwhite brand. After brushing his teeth meticulously to rid himself of any bad breath, Lucas changed, making sure to wrap his blue scarf correctly around his neck (he could name many times when he badly-wrapping his scarf had led to unfortunate incidents) and adjusting his artist's hat so that it did not feel itchy.

Then, pushing open the door, Lucas found his sister, her hair all frizzy, standing in her pale-pink night gown outside. Raising an eyebrow quizzically at his sister's unexpected promptness in waking up, the azure-haired Trainer noted that his sister was holding her day-clothes in her right hand, which hung by her side. Side-stepping her sister, who shot him a venomous look, as if blaming him for waking her up, Lucas dashed back inside the guest room.

Picking up his Pokeball-belt and blue backpack which he had left by the end of his sleeping bag the previous night, the Trainer strapped the former around his waist and slung the latter over his two shoulders. He noticed vaguely that Tyson had vacated his sleeping bag, and, shrugging, left the room and headed down the stairs.

* * *

Paul Samuels glanced with distaste at the green-haired boy who had just exited the front door. He indistinctly recalled glancing his photo (or someone similar—but just how many people had green hair?) emblazoned on the cover of a magazine or something like that—Paul never emerged himself in petty things like gossip, in any case. 

Averting his gaze from the green-haired boy, he looked at his Infernape, who crouched, breathing in heavy gasps, on the ground, smoke rising ominously from the flames on his head. Paul had just ordered him to use a 'Flamethrower' attack at the sky—evidently the fire-typed attack had its after-effects. Instantly, Paul's brain began registering the fact that his Infernape had displayed imperfect endurance, and the longevity of the entire flame-attack was, although very long, not quite long enough.

He thought he saw his Infernape's orange eyes grow dull as his own purple ones bore relentlessly into them, daring the fire-typed Pokemon to display any form of confidence. Infernape did not, and, seeming to receive the unspoken message, quickly cart wheeled into mid-air and performed an almost perfect 'Fire Spin' at the air around him, a defensive tactic Paul had taught him.

"Better," Paul muttered, as the Infernape landed back onto the ground.

* * *

Brendan Ruby Birch glanced over his shoulder, to notice an azure-haired boy and a blond boy exit the Ketchum Residence. Drew, Brendan noticed with much disdain, had sent out his Flygon and had flown to a patch of short grass a good ten meters away from Brendan, now performing various Dragon-Breath and Sand Storm combination appeals. To Brendan's dissatisfaction, the Flygon's appeals were going rather well; this jealously, however, merely fueled his own determination and caused him to work his Dragonite with renewed vigor. 

Beads of sweat, almost unnoticeable, rolled down the orange dragon's large sides. Brendan did not notice, however—his mind was full of determination to beat Drew in grandeur and presentation. He wasn't the Wallace's pupil for absolutely nothing, after all! "Dragonite, another 'Hydro Pump' and 'Dragon Dance'!" The white-haired Trainer ordered fiercely, thrusting his right arm into the air.

The Dragon Pokemon could only consent wearily. Beating her leathery wings, the orange Pokemon slowly rose into the air—then, taking a deep breath as if preparing herself for something nasty, the Dragonite unhinged her jaws. White water burst out of her mouth, seeming to be suspended in mid-air, perhaps by the wind created from the Dragon's heavy wing-beats, but it soon began to fall towards the ground.

"Niiite!" The Dragon Pokemon cried, diving towards the earth and then, with one powerful beat of her wings, back into the air again. As a result, the "Hydro Pump" attack followed the Dragonite in an ovular motion instead of plummeting towards the ground, the effect of the air generated from the artificially-generated wind created by Dragonite's wings.

Brendan watched with approval as his Dragonite continued whirling around in the air, flaunting her many years' of training in aerodynamics. When there was a thin sphere of water surrounding the Dragon Pokemon, Brendan hurriedly ordered, "Now, 'Dragon Dance'!"

Although her Trainer could not see, Dragonite gave a small nod and immediately shut her eyes, although still beating her wings furiously. As a result, the hovering sphere began moving slightly away from the Pokemon, but before it could collapse as water onto the ground, she began twirling at a quickening speed in mesmerizing circles before, finally, she thrust out her wings so quickly that the frail bubble of water burst open in mid-air.

Water droplets sprayed in every direction; Brendan looked quickly at Drew's Flygon, who hissed in annoyance as some water entered the contained Sand Storm he was whipping up. The white-haired Trainer was reasonably pleased with his Dragonite's performance, and Drew's rivalry forgotten, he waved his hand to signal for his Pokemon to fly back, which she did.

"Good job, Dradra!" Brendan complimented happily, addressing his Dragonite by her nickname. Dradra did not seem to be bothered by her Trainer's eccentric taste in nicknames, but grinned sheepishly at his praise, and watched with wide, golden eyes rimmed with dark red her Trainer dig around in his emerald backpack for something.

After a few more seconds of searching, Brendan pulled out a well-polished Pokeblock case with a content "Aah!" and, flipping it open, promptly selected a smooth-textured red Pokeblock. He tossed the Pokeblock into the air, and Dradra snapped it up, cringing with delight at the intense spicy flavor—what she liked best.

Stealing an oblique glance at Drew, Brendan noticed to his disappointment that Flygon's Sandstorm appeal was going almost impeccably. Feeling slightly disheartened, he turned back towards Dragonite. "Well, let's try that again?"

* * *

Ashton Red Ketchum, finishing his breakfast, or more correctly, lunch, wiped his milk-stained mouth with a napkin, and then promptly bolted out the door, with eagerness fuelled by… well… he didn't really know. Something about the simple idea of seeing Gary was enough to make him energetic, though, and pulled him out of bed at a whopping nine o'clock. 

His Pikachu bounded after him, muttering a confused 'Pikaa?' at his Trainer's unusual excitement. If Ash could have found a mirror, he would have noticed his eyes glaze over as Gary's tall and lean figure sauntered through the Oaks' house. Barely able to contain his happiness, Ash blurted out, "Gary!" and began sprinting towards the disoriented-looking auburn-haired Trainer.

As Ash darted closer, he could have sworn that Gary's brown eyes twinkled with something like… pleasure? _Oh, Arceus, please let it be pleasure! Please!_ But then the moment passed, and Gary was snickering his infamous snicker at Ash, and a cold sensation began forming at the pit of Ash's stomach, like it always did.

"Hey, Ashy-boy," Gary said, in his infamous narcissistic voice, just loud enough to be overheard by anyone within a fifty-meter radius. Ash's run suddenly slowed to a jog, and soon he began wondering why he had burned with the desire to run towards Gary in the first place.

Before Ash could say anything, or even utter a forcibly casual, "Hi," Gary had indicated with a thrust of his thumb the direction to his left. Ash looked, and noticed his mother, Professor Oak, and Tracey set up a large, dusty-looking blackboard that they probably dug up from Professor Oak's basement. Multiple baskets filled with orange fruits lay on the ground around them. Then, looking at the ground underneath himself, Ash noticed with a jolt that Tracey or someone had drawn eight white-lined battlefields with what appeared to be a fast-drying paint. Very much bemused, Ash turned to Gary, waiting for an explanation.

"What are they doing?" Ash asked, scratching the side of his face.

"What they're doing, _Ashy-boy,_" Gary said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Is they're setting up the tournament pairings and Contest pairings. Surely your mom told you this?"

"What? Nobody told me about this!" Ash cried, springing up angrily, attracting the attention of several others. Fortunately, Harley was busy loitering around May, Brendan, and Drew. Ash was too far away to hear the contents of their discussion in any case, although the lavender-haired man would occasionally emit peals of high, girly laughter.

"No, really?" Gary mumbled, an eyebrow cocked. Ash almost blushed.

"Seriously! Did they sign me up?" Ash asked, unable to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

"I think they signed you up by default. Everyone else is done; you've overslept stupendously, Sleeping Beauty." Gary said nonchalantly, looking at Professor Oak, Tracey, and Ash's mother work. Ash flushed a light red, but hoped that Gary had not seen him. "You should probably go check, just to be sure."

"Oh, thanks, Gary!" Ash beamed. He reached out to hug Gary without really thinking, and by the time he realized what he was doing his arms were already around the auburn-haired Trainer's abdomen. The light flush on his cheeks bloomed into bright red, and to hide it, Ash buried his head deeper inside Gary's side, surprised by how warm his rival was. It felt good to hug him.

Then, as if truly realizing what he was doing, Ash bounced back and began tearing at breakneck speed towards the place where his mother, Professor Oak, and Tracey were working, hoping very much that Gary would just forget about the entire incident. After his talk with Misty, though incomplete, Ash had begun feeling a lot more confident around Gary… but now all that was shattered. He prayed silently that Gary would suffer a case of severe amnesia and forget their entire almost midday conversation.

"Hey, Mom, am I on here?" Ash asked anxiously, trying to keep the image of hugging Gary—of inhaling his soothing scent—away from his mind. It was hard.

His mother's sleek terra-cotta ponytail turned. "Why, of course, dear. Do you want to see the board?

"Sure!" Ash said enthusiastically. He craned his neck to look at the board. Words were written in chalk in his mother's bubbly, childish handwriting.

BATTLE TOURNAMENT

??????? VS ???????

????? vs ???? ???? vs ????

??????? vs ??????? ??????? vs ??????? ??????? vs ??????? ???????? vs ???????

Brendan vs Max Brock vs Tracey Tyson vs May Misty vs Lucas Gary vs Paul Ash vs Dawn Silver vs Marina Turquoise vs Jimmy

CONTEST

WINNERS???? and ????

??????? and ??????? VS ??????? and ???????

??????? vs ??????? ??????? vs ??????? ??????? vs ??????? ??????? vs ???????

Appealers: May Drew Dawn Brendan Marina Zoey Kenny Ash Max Brock Misty Harley

"Oh, wow, Gary has to go against Paul in the first round..." Ash mused, studying the blackboard intently. Mr. Mime evaporated out of thin air besides the black-haired Trainer, looking slightly dazzled, but Ash ignored him. "Huh. Ouch. I have to go against Dawn in the first round of the battle Tournament; I mean, of course, I'll flatten her, since she's still somewhat of a rookie compared to me, but..." He looked around wildly in case the girl was around.

"Ash, don't talk about people like that," Delia Ketchum scolded, making a last few marks on the blackboard.

"But, it's obvious! Huh... wait... who's 'Turquoise'?" Ash asked, puzzled.

"She's a girl who just moved to Pallet! She says her mother told her to come here and socialize, and I thought that I might as well invite her, she's so sweet! Look, there she is now," Ash's mother answered, pointing towards Ash's right. Turning his head, the black-haired Trainer noticed a girl with dark brown hair and a wide-brimmed white hat converse with Gary, who was looking disgruntled. She appeared to be laughing a lot, and frequently batted his eyelids at the auburn-haired Researcher. Ash's insides coiled.

His mother seemed to have noticed the unfriendly expression on Ash's face, so to draw his attention away from him, she said cheerfully, "Hey, look, Drew and Brendan—at least, I think that's his name, he has really pale skin, doesn't he?—are having a battle."

Distracted, Ash turned around. Indeed, May's green-haired rival was battling against Brendan. Both wore expressions of great dislike, and a thin crowd, consisting of a cheering Harley and a worried-looking May and more, had congregated, although neither battlers seemed to have noticed. Drew's Flygon and Brendan's Dragonite were flying overhead, sending long-range attacks at each other.

"The heck—?" Ash murmured, padding over to where Drew and Brendan were engaged in fierce conversation. He tilted his head skywards, squinting to avoid being temporarily blinded, and noticed that the two Dragon-typed Pokemon seemed to be fairly evenly matched, and Ash wondered who would win.

Before the outcome of the battle could be decided, however, Ash's mother had, by way of shouting loudly, caught everyone's attention. Watching Drew and Brendan out of the corner of his eyes, Ash saw both Trainers return their Pokemon with jerky movements.

"Over here, everyone! May I have everyone's attention!" Delia barked. Ash had never known his mother to have such a loud voice. The crowd which had formed around Drew and Brendan's now-finished battle began drifting towards the terracotta-haired woman. "We are going to begin the Contest appeals now! The top eight appealers will battle against each other in a knockout tournament! Mr. Mime here is going to knock off, er, oranges to represent each appealer's Battle points!"

On cue, the psychic-typed Pokemon stepped forwards, emitting a neighborly, "Mime, mime!" It now became apparent what the oranges' purpose were; Mr. Mime's eyes glowed pink and all of the oranges promptly rose into the air, forming eight circles of orange atop the crowd's heads. Several people clapped in respect.

"Anyways, that's our makeshift replacement for the computer points! We will use names drawing out of a basket in replacement for the computer-randomized matchings!" Delia shouted energetically. The crowd began murmuring with approval. Ash, however glad they were to have battles, was simpering lightly at the fact that he did not have much time to talk with his friends. _Wasn't this the whole point of the reunion—?_ Shrugging the thought away, Ash tuned his attention back to his mother. "And now, let's begin the Contest Appeals! First appealer, May Maple of Petalburg!"

* * *

May Sapphire Maple exclaimed in delight. Since the previous night, when she had first heard of the reunion's small Contest, she had signed up—although admittedly, partly to evade Harley. Discarding all thoughts of the undoubtedly malevolently interested Coordinator, she leapt into one of the painted battle fields and flung out a random Pokeball, trusting her deliciously good luck to make a decent pick. 

Soon enough, the fluttering figure of her Beautifly appeared in a cloud of chalky white smoke, squealing exuberantly in a high-pitched, "Wooooh!" May grinned to herself—her Beautifly was indeed a good choice to set off things with, and she could always get into the battle round of a Contest when she used her Beautifly.

"All right, Beautifly!" May said energetically, punching the air with her right fist as her Beautifly began her regular appeal routine of spinning around in mid air and emanating silver sparks. "Start things off with a 'Whirlwind!'"

Complying, the butterfly-like Pokemon began spinning even faster, whipping up a miniature tornado. May backed away a few feet so that she would not be encaged inside the wind. The crowd, too, stepped back. "'Silver Wind' now!" May cried, thrusting her own arms apart in an imitation of her Beautifly's wings. The bug Pokemon gave a small squeak of consent, and added silvery dust to the fray. May blinked several times as several stray puffs of dust nearly entered her own eyes.

Dancing around, very much pleased with herself, May queried, "How did I do?"

"Very well, we're impressed," The scratchy voice of Professor Oak said. Opening her eyes, May saw that above her name, Delia had wrote in chalk a number '27.'

Contentedly, May waved to Drew and Brendan. The latter pinked slightly, but May thought that was probably just because of the sunlight or something. Drew, however, merely flicked his hair, earning himself a hearty scowl from May.

* * *

Dawn Pearl Hikari watched in amazement as Drew finished his appeal with a perfect 'Water Pulse' from his Absol. _Wow... I can't believe that Ash knew someone this good!_ She thought to herself admiringly. The people around her erupted into fervent plaudit, and a 30 was drawn above Drew's name. 

The green-haired Coordinator flashed everyone around him a smirk, and returned the Disaster Pokemon in a flash of bright crimson light. Inspired, Dawn practically leapt onto the circular clearing the crowd was centered around, with an intention to top even the legendary Drew's performance.

"Come out, Pachirisu!" She exclaimed excitably, throwing her Pachirisu's marked Pokeball into the air. The electric-typed Pokemon appeared in a flash of blinding yellow, chirping happily and bubbling with energy. "Pachirisu, 'Discharge'!"

Nodding, the squirrel-like Pokemon jumped into the air, sparks flaring from the small blue circles on its cheeks. Shards of electricity burst out of the Pachirisu, rapidly forming a sphere that surrounded her. Then, with all the vigor of a Pokemon exceeding her size, the Pachirisu allowed the 'Discharge' technique to expel itself in all directions, nearly shocking the crowd. "Good job, Pachirisu!" Dawn praised, returning her Pokemon without further ado—the azure-haired girl was afraid the squirrel-like Pokemon would get stage fright again, as sometimes was the case.

"Good job yourself, Dawn! You earned a 24.5!" Delia said, indicating the freshly-edited scoreboard. Twenty_-four point five? It's not bad, I guess... kind of sad compared to Drew... I wonder how well Kenny and Zoey will do... hah, Zoey'll give Drew a run for his money..._

Feeling slightly better, Dawn walked to Zoey, Kenny, Lucas, and Tyson, all four of them showering compliments on her._ 24.5 really isn't bad, after all,_ Dawn thought to herself, feeling her cheeks flush as Kenny and Tyson gave her, at the same time, a sincere smile. Then, the two boys turned to each other, frowning, and proceeded to shoot each other glares. Dawn frowned herself—it was unusual of them to act like this, weren't they good friends? Perhaps time had changed people. Abandoning the thought, the azure-haired Coordinator turned to see a white-haired boy enter the make-shift stage after herself.

* * *

"Wow, Brendan, that was really good!" Marina Crystal Clearwater heard the bandana wearing girl exclaim. The white-haired boy, who had just completed his Dragonite's appeal of various water combination attacks, apparently trying to overdo the last user of water—Drew—and earned himself a 29, the last point marked off because Drew had already used a water move. The albino, Brendan or something like that, seemed severely disheartened by this, but perked up considerably after hearing the brown-haired girl's praise. 

_I'll show them!_ Marina thought to herself, grip tightening around her Feraligatr's Pokeball...

**Viridian City Gym, Viridian City, Kanto**

Mewtwo vaguely heard Giovanni say dissmissively, "I need to get Articuno now," to the three scientists garbed in white.

The word_ pathetic_ longed to roll out of his feline mouth.

Yet it couldn't.

He couldn't move. There was something wrong, terribly wrong, but everytime Mewtwo tried to think about this, the subject would slip from himself, and he was left wondering what he had been thinking about.

So, when his mind began to fog, Mewtwo tore his focus off of the subject and instead, lapsed into a conscious sleep.

**A/N:**

**Blah! FINALLY done with chapter 5! x)**

**The ending was a bit rushed, I know. I'm not very good at writing cliffhangers... I hardly doubt anybody cares whether Marina passes or not... -sighs-**

**I do like this chapter better than the last one, even though very little happens in this one (sorry 'bout that, in case you were expecting a huge battle scene, there will be PLENTY of that in the next chapter, oh that I can guarantee ;) )**

**Please review:)**


	6. The Battle Tournament I

**VERY IMPORTANT Disclaimer GASPGASP:**** I don't own Pokemon, mmkay? Though I do wish I did. –sigh–**

**Thanks for the great reviews, everyone! (: I've been really lazy with the plot, heheh sorry about that. Everybody seems to be relatively content with the current events, though… but, again, I am digressing. The beginnings of new pairings form in this story. Don't bite my head off for them hah.**

**Kekekeke. There's lots of different shipping-fluff in this, though it is distributed somewhat awkwardly… :/ Hey, it's really hard to keep track of everyone when you've got over twenty 'main' characters!**

**Prominent Pairings of this Chapter****:  
DrewxMay  
MayxBrendan  
PaulxDawn  
KennyxZoey  
SilverxTurquoise  
MarinaxJimmy  
DawnxTyson**

**Newly Introduced Main to Side Human Characters in This Chapter (Order of Appearance):  
****Roxanne Rock  
Brawly Waves**

**Ooh, I know this is kinda random, but I just looked at a Sinnoh episode's pics, and Dawn caught herself a new Buizel! Woot! Go Dawn! **

**Ahem. Now that we have that cleared up, here's the next installation of ND—and, emulating pondertheworld, "Bring on the battle scenes"!—that are near the end…**

**Warning: THIS IS A HUGE CHAPTER. If you don't care about the fluff and want the action, skip ahead until you see the second centered "Pallet Town, Kanto" in bold. Also, I only managed to stuff about nine-tenths of a battle in here because if I stuffed the remainder of this battle and another one, this whole story would be over 20 pages in Word… :/ Expect a double-update this week in ND, anyways. (:**

**Chapter 6—The Battle Tournament Part I**

**Pallet Town, Kanto**

"Wani-Wani! Take the center stage!" Marina Crystal Clearwater cried enthusiastically, flipping out the blue alligator Pokemon in a flash of vibrant yellow light that complimented both her cerulean hair and her Pokemon's sea-blue scales. Almost immediately, the water-type specialist began questioning her own wisdom—in the preliminary round of a Contest, she had most luck with her dance routine with her Misdreavous; adding to that was the fact that Brendan and Drew had already used water-typed appeals before herself.

Brushing away the pessimistic thought from her mind, she declared, flinging an imitative finger into the air, "Wani-Wani, 'Hydro Pump!'"

The Feraligatr gave a grunt of consent before unhinging his large jaws. A white tunnel of water rocketed into the sky, blinding the audience with the light that was reflected off of the water…

* * *

Jimmy Gold Tekan lifted one thumb and smiled cheekily at Marina, who had just returned her Feraligatr, flustered, after the three judges had awarded her a twenty-six, owing to the fact that both Brendan and Drew had used water-typed appeals before her. "You rock, and you rule!" He said in a cheesy, commercial-guy voice. 

"Thanks, Jimmy," Marina said limply, seeming somewhat downhearted at her less-than-perfect appeal. Silver, who was sulking behind Jimmy, simply threw her a look of distaste. Jimmy suppressed the urge to force the red-haired Trainer to compliment Marina; though when the baseball-capped Trainer looked to Silver, he noticed with some surprise that his friend's scarlet, _jealous?! _gaze was lingering on the slim body of a brown-haired and hatted girl, who was chatting animatedly with the rather nasal-voiced auburn-haired boy. And for some strange reason, Ash Ketchum was not looking very happy about the two brown-haired Trainers' conversation.

* * *

Kenneth Smith watched in admiration as Zoey finished her extravagant appeal with yet another dazzling 'Shadow Claw' attack from her Glameow. It was only expected, then, that the vermillion-haired girl received a perfect three-oh on her appeals. _She's _so_ good… I'm so glad Dawn and I met her…_ After bowing to the applauding and cheering crowd with a small but smug smile on her face, Zoey moved back to her own small 'group': consisting of Dawn, Zoey, Tyson, Lucas, Kenny, and for some reason, a sulking Paul that stayed just close enough to be counted. 

Paul. Kenny didn't really like him, nope, not at all; the maroon-haired Trainer just seemed so… mean. And kind of creepy. He couldn't quite see how Ash could have invited such a character to his reunion party. Shivering as Paul shot him a dirty glare for no other reason than Kenny vaguely observing him, the ginger-haired boy bounced vivaciously onto the clearing, emulating his hasty friend Tyson, in an attempt to discard all thoughts of Paul from his mind.

"All right! Alakazam, enter!" Kenny cried, unclipping a Pokeball from his belt. With every slight turn of his shoulders, the golden tassels on his shoulder-pads rustled, though this was part of his attempt to recreate grandeur, despite the fact that the entire Contest and Battle Tournament was staged outside. Flinging the Pokemon capsule into the air, Kenny watched with pride as his Alakazam exploded out of the Pokeball in a shower of black and gold sparks.

"Aahll," The Psychic-typed Pokemon said in an eerie, deep voice, hovering with two long, light-coffee legs crossed over each other in mid-air.

As the crowd burst into amazed applause, Kenny ordered with a flourish of his right hand, "Now, Alakazam, 'Shadow Ball' and 'Psychic'!"

Grunting intelligently, the Psi Pokemon, clutching two silver spoons in his three-fingered hands, crossed his arms over his head and squeezed his amber eyes shut as if concentrating intensely. Four dark spheres, sizzling with neon-yellow electricity, popped suddenly out of thin air, one on every side of the Alakazam; before they could fire off into the crowd, however, their silhouettes began glowing a light brown and they stopped, hovering in mid-air.

"Great! Now, 'Thunderbolt'!"

The said attack hit each of the Shadow Balls, creating a stunning effect of suddenly illuminating each ghost-typed attack. The audience 'Oohed' and 'Aahed', and Kenny turned to look at his score. A '27' was being drawn above his name.

"Not bad, sir, not bad at all!" Dawn exclaimed after Kenny returned to their group. The azure-haired girl was wearing a bubbly expression, one that she usually wore after each appeal. The ginger-haired boy blushed at her praise. Tyson and Lucas complimented Kenny as well. He did not, however, expect anything from Paul, who threw him another glare of revulsion and turned away, keeping his gaze determinedly on the back of Dawn's head, for some reason.

Though, very much unexpectedly, Zoey threw Kenny a wide grin. The ginger-haired boy, who had never expected to receive one from her, could only blush furiously and avert his gaze.** (1)**

* * *

May Sapphire Maple watched with intense dislike as the lilac-haired man finished his Cacturne's appeal. As usual, the girlish man had ordered the grass-typed Pokemon to use 'Bullet Seed' on the ground, embedding in the ground a glittering fulvous skull. 

He had received a '26.5' on the Cacturne appeal, much to May's distaste, although she was glad that she still managed to score higher than him, even if it was just by half a point. However, before Harley could finish bowing in delight at the crowd, who May felt was clapping out of politeness, the brown-haired girl lunged and grabbed Brendan and Drew's wrists, intending to drag them out of there so they would not have to suffer the purple-haired man's wrath.

Not to her surprise, Brendan and Drew were both only too eager to comply, although exactly why, May remained unsure. It was uncharacteristic for either of them to want to vacate the center of attention—though May suspected Drew was tired of all the flirtatious stares Misty was shooting him (and Brock didn't seem very happy about this for some reason), but that was not an extremely good reason anyways. Brendan, though, May wasn't so sure… since it was not he who Harley enjoyed torturing so much; perhaps Brendan was simply being sympathetic?

May shrugged and led them behind a random house and then down the cobbled street, careful to cause as little noise as possible. However, after a bare minute of being dragged around by the brown-haired Coordinator (which was actually a record time), Drew just _had_ to say _something_.

"Where are you taking us now, _May_?" Drew sneered; May really did not like the way he pronounced her name. So, grumbling in anger, she relinquished  
her grip on him, and subconsciously did the same to Brendan, who seemed a little bit disappointed.

"I, thank you very much, am rescuing you from a most horrendous fate." May responded pompously in an attempt to tick Drew off.

"That being…?"

"Harley tearing me apart from limb to limb!"

Cocking an eyebrow, Drew asked, "What does Harley tearing _you_ apart from limb to limb have to do with _me_?"

May felt her face glow red; Drew merely smirked at her color-change however, which only made her even angrier. "I knew I shouldn't've brought you along to the reunion! Gosh! You're only trouble! Misty won't even _talk_ to me since she's so busy staring at _you_!" The brown-haired Coordinator spat venomously. She spared an oblique glance at Brendan to make sure that he hadn't run away for fear of his own morality, though to her slightly bewilderment he stood rooted to the spot, looking very sympathetic to May's cause, though when his ruby eyes turned to Drew they flashed angrily with… well… anger.

The green-haired Coordinator merely flicked his hair. "It's not my fault I'm _so_ irresistibly hot."

May, unable to make another comeback, contented herself with glowing even redder, so that now her head resembled an inflated cherry. Brendan, however, obviously unable to suppress his sarcastic instincts, retorted, "Not to mention vainglorious."

"Vainglorious?" Drew's smirk dropped for a split second as he frowned.

"Vainglorious." May confirmed for Brendan, even though she too did not know the word's meaning. Still, it was probably better than saying nothing… right? Drew, for once in his life, seemed to be at a temporary loss for words. Brendan only took advantage of the brief lull.

"Not to mention, overflowing with such megalomaniac—" Brendan continued very quickly, raising an eyebrow to match Drew's as if in an attempt to dare the green-haired Coordinator to object. May could practically kiss Brendan. Soon thereafter, she wondered if she really could have. Then, she began wondering how it would feel to kiss Brendan, how it would feel to—

"What?!" Drew demanded, jade eyes widening with both disbelief and amazement. May suppressed an 'of course!' snort—perhaps she should have warned him that Brendan had a dictionary to rival that of Webster's.

"Psst. Intellectually disadvantaged fool." Brendan scoffed. May immediately recognized it as his 'comical scoff', meaning that he really was intending to urge a laugh out of her. Which he managed, causing Drew to eye May with apprehension. However, May did wonder why Brendan went so far as to help her feel better. She also wondered why Drew insisted on making her life living hell, just as bad, if not worse, as Harley's efforts.

Drew glowered at Brendan for a moment before realizing that he was actually revealing emotions. As if to compensate, he flicked his hair and smirked—which, May felt (and judging by the look on Brendan's face, him as well) was what Drew did when anything went out of order.

"Whatever. I'm going back. Who knows, the Contest might have started by now. Or, those inefficient friends of yours may have sorted out the scores and decided who is able to advance into the next round." Drew said, flashing daggers at Brendan as if challenging him to beat his vocabulary. However, Brendan simply snorted, obviously unswayed by Drew's comparably weaker use of vocabulary.

However, though May wore a scowl, something inside her mind clicked. _Yeah! After Harley's appeals, Delia was supposed to write who should be advancing to  
the next level. _Forgetting her hatred of Drew for a split second, she grabbed Brendan's hand, making sure to avoid grabbing Drew's, and sped back towards the open field, ready to risk her sanity if faced with Harley Davidson again. However, the brown-haired Coordinator stole an impulsive sidelong glance at Drew, and noticed with surprise and satisfaction that he was looking miffed and… perhaps a little… disappointed, somehow.

Practically launching herself into the air with unparalleled hyper energy—May felt Brendan wince in pain some feet behind herself as she let go of him, undoubtedly sending him toppling forwards—she cried, "Well?! Well?! Did I get in, or did I get in!"

"You got in, don't worry, _sister_," Max, who was clutching a magazine May recognized as one in the Ketchum's downstairs bathroom, said, walking towards May as Wally helped Brendan to his feet. The brown-haired Coordinator was too excited to register the patronizing tone in her brother's voice.

"Whee! I did! Yes! I knew it! Woot! Time for me to see who I'm paired up against!" May shouted gleefully, rushing over to the make-shift blackboard. Jostling her way through the small crowd congested in front of the blackboard, she read the Contest section:

CONTEST

??????? and ??????? VS ??????? and ???????

May vs Harley Drew vs Kenny Dawn vs Zoey Brendan vs Marina

Evidently, Delia had erased the 'Appealers' line. May rolled her eyes when she saw that she was going against Harley in the first round—of course, she was confident that she would win, though not overly so, as the brown-haired Coordinator was almost certain that the purple-haired man had some tricks up his green sleeves.

_Hmm… Brendan's going against that Marina girl; hmm… she has really great hair, I wonder if it's natural or did she dye it? Hmm… I want a different color than brown hair, brown is so, ugh, boring… hmm… maybe white? No, that's a little weird, no offense meant to Brendan… hmm… green hair would be cool and sexy too.  
Wait. Drew has green hair. Have I gone mad? Hmm… maybe… hmm… speaking of Drew, he's going against Kenny. Whoever that is. Man, I feel bad for this  
Kenny boy already. Oh. Wait. If Drew wins, I have to pair up with him in a double battle. Crap. PLEASE WIN KENNY PLEASE WIN!_

Obviously, her expression must have revealed something, because Drew, who had miraculously found his way back to the field, the crowd of which was dissipating for lunch break (Mr. Mime seemed to be setting up a table), approached her with a disgustingly smug expression on his face. May could almost hear his next words, though she did not have to wait for long before they rolled out.

"Why the long face, _May_?" Drew asked, stressing her name with a silky vigor. May's left eye twitched—oh dear Latios, how she hated it when he did that! Though, she did appreciate the extra attention, and the fact that Drew Rosalind, of all the thousands of fangirls he could choose from, would rather talk to her. Of course, she wondered why, and at times she suspected that she was easy to humiliate… which was, as much as it hurt May to admit, true.

Her thoughts began to wander as she struggled to think up a reasonable—or, according to Brendan, _plausible_—excuse. Then, she realized that she didn't really need to answer. It was none of Drew's business, anyways. Or was it?

"…May?"

Of course, in direct quotes from Brendan when a television reporter had tried to oust information out of May when the two friends where off 'exploring' the Petalburg woods and happened to stumble across the television crew, 'such a frivolous question does not merit an answer.' Then again, perhaps it was only polite of Drew to care? Or was it truly none of the green-haired Coordinator's matters to mind? Who came up with so many stupid courteous law-things anyways?

"… Are you stupid?"

That did it. "Excuse me?!" May demanded haughtily.

Drew gave a long sigh. "I'm afraid that was the answer."

"What?"

"That you're stupid."

"I'm stupid?" May asked, slightly confused.

"Yes."

"Did I say I was stupid?"

"You sure are acting like you are. Oh no, wait, you are already." Drew gave another long and pompous sigh, flicking his hair casually to one side as if to informalize his remark. May did not appreciate his 'honesty', though she did take a moment to decipher his, in her opinion, cryptic message.

"… Hey!"

"Yup, definitely stupid."

"Is that what you came to say, then?!"

"No. I came to ask why you had such a long face, remember?"

"Argh!" May cried, clutching her face in anguish. _God! What in the name of CENSORED is this boy doing to me? What CENSORED thing did I CENSORED do wrong?! CENSORED it!_

"Actually, what I _initially _came to say was that it's time for lunch. But obviously, you are too _stupid_ to realize this."

At this, her stomach gave an ironic grumble. May, whiting out the last part of Drew's sentence, remarked, "Oh, I'm hungry. Is it time for lunch?"

"… Such stupid a question does not merit an answer."

"Huh. Where have I heard that before? Hmm… wait… give me a sec…" May wondered aloud, knitting her furrows in concentration. _Did Brendan say that before? I think. Hmm._

"I cannot tell if you are being sarcastic or if your IQ has really fallen into the negatives. Then again, I suppose it is the latter as you obviously cannot comprehend the _complexity _of such _complex _a system, that being sarcasm."

"Huh?" May asked, utterly nonplussed. Ten solid seconds later, what he said had begun to dawn on her. "Oh… wait… Hey!"

At that moment, though, Brendan stepped in and rescued May again. "It's time for lunch." May's stomach leapt with eagerness, though for some reason, May felt a sense of déjà vu. However, Brendan's piercing crimson gaze then turned towards Drew's. The brown-haired Coordinator could practically see sparks of green and red electricity fly from each teenaged boy's eyes.

"What do you want, Santa Claus?" Drew asked coolly, in the silkiest of voices that May had heard yet. Brendan touched his silvery hair self-consciously, pale skin pinking in disgrace.

"I came to rescue May from her starvation, Grass Ass," Brendan replied slickly.

Drew's eyes widened in indignation—May predicted disaster in the near future, though she could not help but giggle at Brendan's pun… and Drew's expression. _How come I didn't think of that before? _**(2)** She wondered to herself, though she pursed her lips at Drew's 'Santa Claus' comment. _That's not very nice. Then again, I suppose Grass Ass isn't either… hmm._

"Feh! I'm hungry! Let's go eat!" May said, brushing away all pun-related thoughts from her mind. Brendan and Drew stopped snarling at each other to look at her, and suddenly, she began feeling rather wary… as if she were suddenly more significant than she really was. But how could she be?

"May's right," Brendan said at last, when Drew refused to speak. "We should be eating; look, they're starting already." The white-haired Trainer pointed towards the dining table, where, indeed, people were seating themselves for lunch. Delia Ketchum had once again prepared an astounding, buffet-styled meal, though May felt more like eating ramen than chicken legs. _Feh. They're both food and they're both… edible._

"Let's go, then!" May shouted, shortly after her stomach gave a huge grumble. Then, without waiting for either Brendan and Drew as she moved her hunger higher up in her list of priorities, the brown-haired Coordinator bounced to a random seat and sat down, careful to seat herself as far away from Max as possible. Wally was a few seats to her left, and somewhat unexpectedly, Brendan sat down promptly on May's right.

A split second after that, Drew sat down on May's left. Again, May thought she saw electricity flare from each boy's intense glower, but she ignored it, deciding that they were upset about their new, rather unfortunate nicknames. Wiping her hands on a wet tissue Brendan procured from his emerald backpack and thrust into her hands—after thanking her white-haired friend, of course, and tucking a bag of the wet tissue he gave to her inside her spacious, round white pockets—she lifted her fork and happily proclaimed, "Well, I'm going to dig in!"

As if her words were a signal, not dissimilar to the way a gunshot signified the beginning of a race, the green-haired and white-haired boys respectively dove their forks into the large bowl of salad May had originally wanted to eat from. However, before she could blink or mutter a, "Hey," all the salad had been transferred from the transparent bowl and into Drew and Brendan's plates.

Then, before May could demand a proper share of the salad, Drew and Brendan had began shoveling the food inside their mouths. And boy, when she thought _shovel, _she meant, _SHOVEL. _The brown-haired Coordinator had never seen anything quite like it—and the dark-haired brunette, who had taken off her wide-brimmed hat to appear polite, stopped her conversation with the blue-haired Marina to gawk at Brendan and Drew's behavior. Soon, Marina was staring, as well, and before long, Jimmy. Even Silver, who rarely turned an eye to anything, looked for a few seconds before smirking and looking away.

"Uh… guys…" May said, her throat feeling very dry. Her sapphire gazed darted from between Drew and Brendan, and then from Brendan to Drew. However, they didn't seem to hear her, and within a matter of seconds, the salad had been devoured; May thought she could hear both of them panting slightly, though they certainly did their best to not appeared tired.

Slowly, May began moving her hand towards one of the two public spoons for the mashed potatoes, but Drew and Brendan had, once again, beat her to the punch. Wondering if she really would starve, May could only scoop up a pitiful spoonful that Drew and Brendan had missed while wildly dishing the food into their plates.

* * *

Paul Samuels turned one semi-interested coal-colored eye to survey the green-haired and white-haired boy's intense eating-rivalry. Sneering in distaste, he looked to his right, where Dawn sat, animatedly chatting to the vermillion-haired girl, Zoey or whatever her name was. To his left, one of Dawn's friends, Kenny, sat, who was busy ogling Dawn and Zoey's conversation, though his interest seemed to lean towards the latter. _Whatever. Just looking at that pathetic terracotta-haired boy makes me wonder why I came to such a pathetic party anyways. This is so pathetic. The food is pathetic. The people are pathetic.  
I'm the only one who's not pathetic. Heck, I can probably beat all of these people at anything, blindfolded._

But, as if countering Paul's 'pathetic'-mental tirade, his dark eyes wandered, once again, to rest on Dawn's legs. To his dissatisfaction, her beautiful, white milky legs—_wait, what in the name of Palkia am I thinking? Dawn must be pathetic, too, to travel with a Trainer as pathetic as Ash—_had been covered by a dark-green gown, which she had changed into at rather frightening speed. Of course, Paul didn't _see_ her change, though he began wishing that he had been inside the Ketchum's bathroom when she had.

Dawn. _What kind of pathetic name is that? Seriously. It's goddamn stupid and only four-letters long. Wait a second, my own name is four-seconds long… _Paul shook the thought away from his mind, which was clouded by other, much more important things… like… Pokemon, for instance. Though at the moment, the only thing that Paul could only think was of how mesmerizing her amethyst eyes were, and how absolutely dazzling they were when they twinkled with laughter. _Wait, what?!_

_Whatever, I might as well eat this food. Though it probably just scrapes edibility. I will surely sue this Delia Ketchum's ponytail off if I get sick. _Warily, he reached out for the public wooden spoon to the steaming pile of new mashed potatoes that Ash's mother had brought out after those green-haired and white-haired freaks had consumed the first platter. Then, for some reason, he stopped, and, grabbing his own spoon, he began reaching for the food.

With surprisingly speed, Dawn's dainty left hand had slapped Paul's callused right one. For some reason, Paul did not find himself cringing with pain, as he had the first time, but rather satisfied that she was prepared to talk to him. Even though her words were far from praise.

"Paul-or-whatever-your-name-is-I-kinda-forgot-since-I-hardly-talk-to-you," Dawn breathed in her delightfully high, feminine voice. _Sounds like wind chimes. Whatever those are. I heard they sound nice anyways. _"Did you forget what I told you?"

Before Paul could resist the temptation, he found himself saying in his sneering voice, "Oh, please. Why would I bother heeding someone—as pathetic as you—'s advice? Don't flatter yourself, pathetic lady."

"Hey! Don't talk to me like that!" Dawn snapped indignantly, forgetting her conversation with Zoey in an instant. The vermillion-haired Coordinator appeared somewhat miffed, but her feelings were the least of Paul's worries.

"Make me." Paul sneered in his meanest way—which was, if one thought about it, very mean.

The dark-blue-haired Coordinator's crystalline purple eyes glazed over in anger; and oddly enough, Paul felt happy about the chance to talk to her. Even if it was meaningless argument. "Well, maybe I will!" Dawn snapped. Paul, unaware of the danger his was in, continued smirking, until the blue-haired girl's patience seemed to have reached the end of its tether.

Lunging forwards, Dawn skyuppercut-ed Paul's jaw. The maroon-haired Trainer saw stars. Moments later, incoherent swearwords began rolling out like liquid water out of his mouth. "CENSORED CENSORED CENSORED this CENSORED CENSORED CESNSORED." The pain was unbearable. Paul wondered if his jaw was permanently displaced. _What is this girl, a kick-boxer or something?!_

When at last he stopped swearing—and when he noticed that everyone at the table was dead silent except for Max, who gave a low whistle—the maroon-haired Trainer opened one eye to look at Dawn. He noticed discontentedly that she was smirking at _him _in an I-told-you-so way. Paul wondered why he didn't throw his napkin on the table and leave right then and there, but something about Dawn's smile, regardless of how smug it may be, made him want to say.

Before Paul could say anything else though, Dawn opened her mouth and said, what was both a blessing and a curse for Paul, two small, simple words. "Don't worry."

**Sootopolis Gym, Sootopolis, Hoenn**

"I see, so that's how it is," Steven Stone heard the serene voice of Wallace drift over from what appeared to be a mile away, but was, in reality, no farther than half a meter. "Have you warned the Gym Leaders yet?"

Steven, jerking back to his senses, shook his head bitterly and whispered, "No."

"Well, why not? They are excellent when dealing with these matters." Wallace reasoned, his voice extremely cool. Steven sometimes wondered how Wallace managed to do that, even in the face of imminent danger and controversy.

"I don't know, Wallace. They may not believe me. I've sounded more than _one _false alarm over these years, if you get my drift."

"Still, you have to try, right?"

"Well, _you're _the Champion, why don't _you _try?" Steven snapped, feeling inexplicable hate welling inside of his stomach. Yes, the gray-haired man did indeed miss his former position of power; and it was true that Wallace was the one who 'stole' his crown from him. Heartbeats later, however, Steven immediately began regretting his harsh words and turned, pleadingly, to face Wallace's piercing silver gaze.

"Yes. Yes. I am the Champion," Wallace mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. Surprisingly, the Water Specialist did not seem the least bit offended by Steven's rude remark. On the contrary, he appeared perfectly calm, pondering his own question. "Yes. That is what I will do."

The Champion reached for his pants pocket and pulled out a sleek white Pokenav that for some reason perfectly complemented his outfit. Steven suppressed a snort—it was so like Wallace to consider style, even in desperate times like this. Wallace flipped open the unscathed surface of the Pokenav and, punching a blue button on the wall, daintily tapped the touch-screen of his Navigator while the ceiling opened up, allowing the gamboge noon light to pour inside of the Gym.

From the corner of his left eye, Steven saw Juan look at the open ceiling in disapproval—it was true that the light completely obliterated the Water Gym's aura of mystery, although Steven was pretty sure Juan was willing to let his mysterious first impression relent in the case of such a disaster.

"Yes, is this Roxanne Rock of the Rustboro Gym?" Steven heard Wallace chide cordially into the receiver of the Pokenav.

"Yes." The crisp voice of the rock-typed Gym Leader crackled over the Pokenav. "Is this Wallace?"

"_Oui. _Now, Roxanne dear, we have a very important matter on our hands… Death COM Three, if I dare say. Steven and I are organizing a small meeting at seven o'clock tonight in Sootopolis Gym; can you fly over on time?"

There was a temporary silence; Steven could practically imagine Roxanne's dark eyes widen in shock. "Death COM Three?! Are you kidding me?! Of course I'll be there!"

"_Tres bien. _Well, Steven and I shall see you there!" Wallace said courteously, ending the conversation by lighting tapping the touch-screen. Then, with professional speed, he tapped a series of buttons protruding out of the side of his Pokenav, and almost instantly, Brawly's rough but neighborly voice came on the intercom.

"Brawly Waves here. Is this Wallace?"

"Yes, _Monsieur _Waves..." Wallace continued talking. In another twenty minutes, he had finished contacting all of the Gym Leaders and had turned quizzically towards Steven.

"What?" Steven asked, feeling Wallace's undivided attention upon him and feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Should we inform Cynthia and Lance?" Wallace queried politely. It was as if the light cyan-haired Champion was attempting to appear as courteous as possible with Steven, to make Steven feel even more involved in the action. _Like the good old days… except for all Wallace is making me feel is like a loser._

"Yes, I suppose we should…" Steven finally answered after a few seconds of pondering, and Wallace once again set to work.

**Pallet Town, Kanto**

"Wow, I never knew one of Ash's friends could swear that much," May Sapphire Maple remarked shortly after Paul had stopped barking out cuss words, and the lunch group had resumed its normal routine. Thankfully, though, while everyone had been staring at Paul, Drew and Brendan had forgotten to devour everything in front of themselves and May managed to sneak several chicken legs onto her plate, though personally she was thinking, _uh, sure, right... _while remembering her own swearing tales.

"I suppose we're all full of surprises, then," Brendan said, winking at May, who felt her cheeks flush very lightly, but then her attention turned back to her food and she began tearing the meat off of her chicken leg. The white-haired Trainer and green-haired Coordinator seemed pretty full, though, and none ate anything. However, for the remainder twenty minutes of lunch, the two seemed to decide to compete against each other in a staring contest. May had never seen anyone keep their eyes open for that long.

May dabbed at her lips with her napkin primly, and then, out of politeness, began helping Delia Ketchum and Mr. Mime clear the table. She noticed another brunette with much darker hair than May's help as well, as well as Dawn and the blue-haired Marina; of course, no _boys _were helping—they were all too busy having stupid staring contests with each other. _Whatever, _May thought to herself, helping sweep the remains of the food into a large trash bag.

"All right!" Delia Ketchum proclaimed with the energy of a much younger woman. "Thank you girls for your help," She continued, smiling graciously at May, Turquoise-or-something, Dawn, and Marina, "Now, we should be starting the Battle Tournament!" Delia said, raising her voice.

The effect was almost immediate. Brendan and Drew promptly knocked over their chairs as they scrambled towards a random one of the eight battlefields. May sweat-dropped, mostly at Drew's behavior, since he hadn't even been entered in the Battle Tournament. It was as if they were trying to see who can beat the other to the battle field.

Sighing, she muttered, "Boys these days," under her breath and went to check which battle field she was to be battling in against this 'Tyson' fellow in a one-Pokemon each single battle. _Whoever he is, I better beat him! _May thought vigorously to herself after pushing herself through the thick crowd in front of the blackboard and seeing that she was scheduled to have the match in Field 3.

"Now where's that?" May wondered aloud, looking wildly around herself. Her blue eyes caught the large, squiggly "3" on a small sheet of white paper suspended in mid-air by Mr. Mime's psychic powers and hurriedly rushed to the corresponding field, her fingers tightening nervously on her Skitty's Pokeball. A slightly nervous-looking Tracey (if that was his name, May couldn't quite remember) was refereeing the match.

A thin crowd, composed of the few people who weren't entered in the Battle Tournament and a myriad of Pallet Townspeople, had lined themselves up in the sidelines. May even thought she saw a camera flash go off in the crowd at her direction—well, she _was _a semi-famous Coordinator after all, and in Johto she did do her fair share of television programs. However, a very angry-looking Delia Ketchum had sought out the camera-wielding man and began scorning him in a harsh voice.

'Tyson' turned out to be a short, skinny, and somewhat scrawny blond boy who had the fairest and smoothest skin. May instantly began admiring his perfect complexion and began feeling very self-conscious of the sparse pimples spread across the bridge of her nose.

But, tearing her thoughts away from Tyson's perfect skin, May readied herself for the battle and, crying, "Go, Skitty!" flung out the kitten-like Pokemon, who appeared in a flash of vivid cherry light and gave a series of high-pitched 'meows!'.

"A Skitty, eh?" May heard Tyson say in a high voice for a boy. She then saw him fumble with unclipping a Pokeball from his belt, and, throwing it into the air, she heard him cry, "Go, Rapidash!"

The said Pokemon emerged in a brilliant flash of orange and yellow light, the vibrant flames on her mane and tails burning fiercely. May squinted her eyes so that she would not be temporarily blinded, though she noted that the Pokemon's glossy white coat had been fairly-well groomed. Her Skitty gave a retaliatory 'Skiitt!', lashing her own pink tail violently, challenging the much larger Pokemon. The kitten-like Pokemon seemed only to glad to stretch her legs after being cramped inside her Pokeball for more than a day.

Deciding that she may as well take advantage of the Rapidash's appearance, May dug around in her fanny bag and pulled out her orange Pokedex. It beeped in a computer-like voice, "Rapidash. Female. The Fire Horse Pokemon. It gallops at speeds up to 150 Mph, has amazing acceleration, and its hooves are as hard as diamonds and can trample enemies into pancakes in seconds."

"Oh… that's… bad." May gulped. Skitty usually fared all right against fast opponents, but, according to the Pokedex, Rapidash were the top of the crust in speed, and this one's rippled muscles gave the appearance that it had been raised purely _for _speed, and perhaps attack.

"May Maple from Petalburg versus Tyson Haste from Twinleaf! Match begin!" Tracey-whatever yelled, waving two flags.

The kitten-like Pokemon did not seem to be bothered by Rapidash's potential danger, though, and charged forwards without waiting for May's command with a valiant 'Quick Attack'. Deciding that she may as well go with her Pokemon's sudden move, she yelled, "Watch out for those hooves, Skitty!"

_Mrrowing _to acknowledge that she had heard her Trainer, the Skitty zipped forwards at an extremely fast speed, almost covering the entire field in a matter of two seconds. But, Tyson ordered at an unexpectedly fast pace, "Rapidash, 'Double Team' to dodge!"

Whinnying in compliance, the Rapidash suddenly doubled its image, and then tripled, quadrupled, and continued to form a ring of carbon Rapidash-copies that surrounded May's Skitty and completely blocked her view to her Pokemon. Panicking and hearing her pink Pokemon's feeble 'mew's of confusion, May stood rooted to the spot, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of her milky white face. "Oh, crap."

"This is our chance, Rapidash!" Tyson shouted happily, sounding very pleased with himself. "All right, full-power 'Flare Blitz'!"

Paralyzed with shock and thinking _Flare Blitz?! What the CENSORED is Flare Blitz?! Is this some kinda trick?! _May could only widen her sapphire eyes in horror as the Rapidash allowed the flames on her mane and tails to glaze over her entire body, not unlike how May's own Blaziken used Blaze Kick, though this 'Flare Blitz' attack appeared deadlier. Then, before May could cry, "Skitty!" the Rapidash had charged forwards, all twenty-something copies of herself zooming towards Skitty all at once until—

The miniscule, feline figure flew into the air and landed at May's feet with a sickening thud, meowing quietly, "Skittt Skitt…" Cringing at her own lack of response and her Skitty's pink and orange fur, which had been badly singed to a dark red. Knowing that it was hypocritical of her to press on, she held up her Skitty's Pokeball and, raising it, prepared to return her Pokemon.

"May! Stop! What are you doing?!" Brendan cried from the sidelines, clutching melodramatically at his face in horror. Instantly, May remembered how angry Brendan got when he lost, and though she thought his antics were a little unnessecary—he had collapsed on his knees, shrieking madly, and attracting the attention of all nearby spectators—she appreciated how he cared so much for her. But at that moment, May stood, quite unable to move.

She did not return her Skitty immediately, and as May waited, the kitten-like Pokemon determinedly pulled herself to her feet, though swayed with the slightest breeze. Brendan, who was still on his knees, cried, "See? Your Skitty's still got plenty of fire inside her! You just gotta…"

The brown-haired Coordinator did not need Brendan to finish his sentence, though she wondered why he was not in his own battle, against Max. Right as she thought those words, the messy blue haired head of her brother had wiggled his way through the crowd and was talking to Brendan in a very fast boy. A few seconds later, Brendan pulled himself to his feet and somewhat reluctantly followed through. May assumed that he was going to his own battle.

"All right, Skitty! You heard what Brendan said! We can't just lose because we took a little 'Blitz'!" May shouted, forcing as much cheeriness into her voice as possible. Evidently she managed to inject _some _energy into her Skitty, for the pink Pokemon stopped swaying and a determined sort of glint came into her squinted pale-orange eyes.

"Skitt!" Skitty meowed in agreement. Tyson's Rapidash, whose fake copies had disappeared into thin air some time ago already, snorted, small whisps of smoke flying into the air from hers slits of nostrils, and pawed at the ground, a blatant challenge to Skitty. Tyson, who appeared content with the success of his Rapidash's first attack, immediately hardened his gaze and appeared to tense himself, waiting for May's next move.

Before Skitty could once again hurl herself into Rapidash's ready clutches, May ordered, "Skitty, use 'Assist!'", placing her trust in her legendary luck.

"Skitt!" Skitty replied, tottering back on her hind legs, her right paw glowing a blinding white. Tyson's Rapidash whinnied apprehensively, waiting for her Trainer's order before either dodging or meeting Skitty's attack with another 'Flare Blitz' or something else. The blond Trainer did not do anything, however, but merely narrow his eyes and wait for what move Skitty was going to use to come out.

A vortex of fire blasted out of Skitty's right paw. May saw lower her head, as if preparing to leap aside, but as Tyson did not give the order for some reason, the Rapidash did not move. The brown-haired Coordinator could not help but marvel at the Fire Horse Pokemon's obedience—she herself was not quite sure if Skitty would not dodge if May didn't give the order to; it had been a while since May had used the Kitten Pokemon in battle, anyways.

Her Blaziken's 'Fire Spin' technique, however, did not appear to have any effect at all on Rapidash. Instead of singing the Fire Horse Pokemon's white fur, as it would have, it simply covered the Rapidash's shining coat and… ridiculously… seemed to actually _power up _Rapidash, which was demonstrated by the Fire Horse Pokemon as she planted one black hoof into the ground, creating a startlingly deep gouge in the grass.

"What?! What's going on?!" May cried, her jaw dropping in terror. She thought she saw Tyson smirk, and, not knowing what to do, could only wait for Skitty to finish the useless 'Assist' attack.

When at last Skitty's 'Fire Spin' technique ended in a blast of frail gray smoke, Tyson piped up in his high voice, "It's Rapidash's ability "Flash Fire!" Every time she's hit by a Fire-typed attack, she powers up instead of getting hurt! Pretty cool, huh?"

Balling her gloved hands into fists, May cried, "Skitty! Use another 'Assist'!" The Kitten Pokemon once again tottered back on her hind feet, raising a glowing paw, but this time, apparently, Tyson did not want to wait for a move to arise out of the Skitty's paw. Rapidash, as if sensing her Trainer's intents, lowered her flaming head so close to the ground that her snout nearly touched the grass.

"Rapidash! 'Quick Attack' it now, before it's attacked!" Tyson ordered. Rapidash dashed forwards at a startling fast speed that rivaled even the swiftest of Flying-typed Pokemon, horn on her head aimed straight for Skitty's side. The Kitten Pokemon, however, was simply moving from the left to right, like a palm tree in a breeze, as if she did not have any worries at all, though her paw was still glowing.

"Oh no! Skitty, strike NOW!" May shouted hurriedly, a nanosecond before the Fire Horse's horn could hit Skitty. And then, amazingly, inexplicably, her Skitty was propelled sideways by an invisible force, even faster than Rapidash's 'Quick Attack', so that all the Fire Horse touched was air. The brown-haired Coordinator saw Tyson gnash his teeth together in frustration—understandably so, for if the Rapidash's horn had found its mark, Skitty would have been knocked out, most definitely—but right now, she was concentrating on her Skitty, trying to figure out which move it had used.

Then, it dawned on her. _Of course… Munchlax's Metronome! It must have somehow turned into 'Extreme Speed'! Perfect! Just what we need! _"Skitty, _attack!_" May shrieked furiously, caught up in the midst of the battle.

"Skittttt!" Skitty yelled gleefully, gladly ramming into Rapidash's side before the blond Trainer could respond. The Kitten Pokemon's velocity, coupled with the abundant amount of energy May and Beautifly both knew Skitty had, ended up knocking the regal horse so badly that it nearly toppled to the ground. A huge, Skitty-sized purple bruise was rapidly forming on the Rapidash's otherwise perfect fur.

"Great, Skitty! Time to finish it off! 'Blizzard'!" May shouted, punching her fist happily into the air, under the impression that the Rapidash was almost defeated. Tyson, however, would not stand for it.

"Rapidash, dodge with 'Bounce'!"

"Bounce?" May asked, confused, as she had never heard of the attack before. Then, she vaguely remembered Max identifying the attack when they were in Johto after a Grumpig had used it as 'a strong flying-typed attack that often takes up two turns. The user bounces up into the air, and then rams the enemy, if it had not dodged, into the dirt, if applied correctly. Though, it is fairly easy to dodge if the Pokemon dodging is not Slugma-slow.'

The Rapidash gave a live demonstration of Max's very words. Leaping up remarkably quickly into the air and avoiding May's Skitty's mouth-originated 'Blizzard'-attack, the Fire Horse Pokemon soon disappeared as a tiny speck in the sky. May craned her neck to see it, but found out that she could hardly work out exactly where the Rapidash was… it was almost like the Pokemon had disappeared into the clouds, which, May reckoned, could be what was happening.

"Wait for it, Skitty!" May said hastily, as her Skitty had been on the verge of leaping away from her current spot. The brown-haired Coordinator had wanted to stage a small gamble—if Skitty dodged in time, then Rapidash would be severely hurt by the impact of her own attack on the hard ground.

Soon enough, Rapidash's previously invisible dot into the air rapidly began enlarging as she plummeted towards the earth. Skitty still did not move, though May saw her Kitten Pokemon's tail quiver in fear. If Rapidash managed to hit Skitty, the match would be over before one could say, "Ouch."

Rapidash came hurling, hurling, hurling… until… **(3)**

**Author's Notes:**

**(1) Eeeeh! Don't kill me yet, Penguinshippers! I was just trying to add more… eh… suspense to the story! Yeah! And now, Tracey will have some competition (but personally I think he likes Professor Oak. Oh crap, now you're all going to kill me, right?)  
(2) Because of the stupid no-swearing nonsense in the anime. But did you know that once Ash said, "What the—?!" Well, he did lol. And it was in the dubs, too. You know. THE DUBS.**

**(3) Efufufu. Don't kill me for the cliffhanger! I just thought that it would be the best to end the chapter here.**

**I tried to shift the attention onto Pokemon in this chapter… well… it didn't work out very well, did it? xD I tried. I tried. –sigh– The attention will shift from shipping fluff to Pokemon in about chapter seven or so, since Giovanni will actually put his plan in action, then. (But I can't reveal too much about that, no?)**

**Well, I hoped you like this story! And if you find the number-notes to be annoying, please tell me and I won't do it in the future. Alternatively, tell me if you liked it, and I'll keep it. This is a bit of an experiment.**


	7. The Battle Tournament II

**Greetings! Welcome to the seventh installation of Natural Disturbances!**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Pokemon or anything of the sort. But, oh boy, do I wish I do.**

**Thanks To:**** Daydreamer Gal for beta reading this story! (: Everyone give her a round of applause! –claps–**

**This chapter should be probably rated a high T. Why? Some suggestive themes on Giovanni's part. But I was just trying to be in-character. :x**

**I've just noticed I've been exceedingly lazy with the majority of the shippings I said I'd put in this story. . . I'm really sorry if I've been disappointing anyone. . . -sigh- and I call myself a Twinleaf, Quest, Crystal/SpecialRock, Origin, Penguin, and Ikarishipper. . . -sigh- Well, I'll definitely try to incorporate more these in the future! Like, when, the plot actually gets started. . .**

**Finally! The beloved Team Rocket makes an appearance. (Just read.)**

**But, on with the story!**

**Chapter Seven: The Battle Tournament II**

**Outskirts of Pallet Town, Kanto**

Jessie, James, and Meowth sighed in exasperation. The scarlet-haired woman was absentmindedly twirling her brightly-colored locks, a contemplative and annoyed expression on her face. James was looking desperate—his usually plotting face was twisted into a plain grimace, while Meowth was pacing on the ground.

"Listen wup, Jessie 'n James," The cat-like Pokemon said at last in his slurry accent, bristling his cream-colored fur. The two humans simultaneously turned to look at Meowth with bored expressions plastered onto their faces.

"What is it this time, Meowth?" Jessie demanded in her usual high, womanly voice.

"Yes, what is it?" James asked in his usual deep, somewhat sad voice.

"I came wup with a pwan!" Meowth said, a cunning grin sneaking onto his wide face. The two Rockets, who had looked away out of boredom, looked back at the cat-like Pokemon with renewed interest.

"What plan?" Jessie asked, curiosity piqued.

"A pwan to get the twerp's Pikachu, that's what!" Meowth declared valiantly, pushing himself easily to his two feet.

"But we weren't invited to the party, remember?" James interrupted sulkily, running a hand plaintively through his blue hair.

"Who cares! We'll kwash their stupid pwarty. Serves 'em white fer not inviting us," The Pokemon continued with vigor, a mischievous gleam crawling into his dark eyes. "And thwen, when everyone's busy wooking for who caused the commwotion, we'll snwatch the twerp's Pikachu! But fwirst, we mwust infwiltwate dware system."

"That's an awesome idea!" Jessie and James beamed. The former Rocket's blue blob of a Wobuffet was beamed out of his Pokeball on his own accord and gave a resolute sort of "Wobb!"

**Pallet Town, Kanto**

_Rapidash came hurling, hurling, hurling, until. . ._

May Sapphire Maple watched as, right in the nick of time, Skitty bravely hurled herself away from Rapidash, who was a mere two feet above the Kitten Pokemon's head at the time. The Fire Horse Pokemon, unable to veer off course in such a short period of time, consequentially crashed straight into the ground, up heaving so much dust that May coughed bitterly for twenty seconds before she dared reopen her eyes.

When at last May dared to look, she saw that Rapidash was lying, rather still, in a foot-deep horse-shaped hole in the ground. Tyson, forgetting all dignity, was rushing forwards at an alarmingly fast speed, crying, "Rapidash! Are you all right?"

Meanwhile, Tracey lifted his flag to May's side, and declared formally, "And the match goes to May Maple of Littleroot and her Skitty." He took a slight pause and then continued with a, "Now I should probably be going to my own match. . ."

"Yes! I won! Whoopee!" May cried happily, jumping up and down in the air. Skitty, too, joined the celebration and flew into the air, propelled by a 'Whirlwind-Assist' joint move, and landed on May's shoulder when she came back down. The brown-haired Coordinator cringed, however, as Tyson humbly withdrew his Pokemon after dabbing with what appeared to be a wet cloth at his Pokemon's bruises. May noticed sullenly that the grass where Rapidash had landed had been trampled flat, and May sincerely hoped that Delia and the other residents of Pallet Town would not care.

She shook hands with Tyson, and said in what she hoped was a tactful way, "Your Rapidash was really strong. I don't know if I could have beaten you if Skitty hadn't dodged on time."

"No. . . I just can't raise Pokemon properly. . ." Tyson murmured, tearing his green-yellow gaze away from May's. May instantly began feeling very sorry indeed for Tyson, but what could she do about it?

The crowd began applauding for May and Tyson, and soon a whole group of people swamped her, congratulating the winner and offering consolation to the loser. May thought she saw Dawn pat the downtrodden blond Trainer on the back, which immediately cheered him up, but then she left, presumably for her own match, and Tyson saddened just as immediately. But at the moment, May's main concern was in finding Brendan and Max and seeing how they were faring.

When she managed to find 'Field One', which was the field in which Brendan and Max's battle was staged, May was surprised to see the entire battlefield covered entirely in smoke. However, she didn't have to wait very long, as the smoke soon cleared, revealing Brendan's Gallade and Max's Grovyle standing opposite each other.

The Blade Pokemon didn't look very tired, and had a perceptibly bored expression on his chalky white face. Mirroring his Pokemon's look, Brendan looked positively bored out of his skull. Max's Grovyle, however, was sweating, panting, and basically looking very much defeated. The blue-haired boy, too, was sweating, panting, and looking very much defeated.

May didn't really know who to cheer for—if she chose to cheer for Brendan, whom May felt more like cheering for at the present moment, Max would throw a fit when the match was over. On the contrary, if May cheered for Max, she would be kidding a lot of people. . .

Before May could reach a conclusion, however, Brendan gave a dismissive flick of his hand and muttered, "Finish it off, Ruru."

Charging forwards possessing speed the likes of May had never perceived possible before, the psychic-and-fighting typed Pokemon raised one long bladed arm, the muscles of which tensed and caused the green blade protruding out of Gallade's elbow to glow a brilliant neon green. May recognized the attack immediately as 'Leaf Blade'.

Max opened his mouth to bark an order, but Gallade had already slammed into the Grovyle, knocking the Tree Gecko Pokemon flying backwards. The Grovyle's limber body skidded ungracefully across the grass, until he gave a final sort of twitch and laid still, one eye closed and the other jade-green one defocused.

Professor Oak, who had been refereeing the match half-heartedly, cringed as Grovyle showed all the symptoms of being completely knocked out. Then, the old professor reluctantly raised his right hand, pointing towards Brendan and his Gallade's direction, and declared in a drawling, scratchy voice, "The win goes to Brendan Birch of Littleroot Town and his Gallade, Ruru."

The brown-haired Coordinator dashed to help her brother, who had collapsed on his knees, losing his mind, and began sobbing hysterically. Irritated but not wanting to appear so, May gingerly eased the Grovyle's Pokeball out of her brother's tight fist and helped him return his Grovyle, since he looked incapable of doing so.

Noticing with vague interest out of the corner of her eyes that Brendan and his Gallade were slowly approaching, and that the mass of silky emerald hair that was Drew's had surfaced somewhere in the crowd, May lifted her brother to his feet and carefully dropped his Grovyle's Pokeball into Max's trembling hands.

Without even sparing his sister a glance, Max choked back a wail and promptly fled to the safety of the Ketchum residence. May felt her eyebrow twitch dryly, but then she felt Brendan's somewhat floral and very fresh cologne drift over from her right. Turning around, she greeted him with a sincere smile and an ushered, "You and your Gallade did great! I'm glad you won!"

To her surprise, Brendan's pallid upper lip twitched and he confessed in a low voice, "No offense is meant, but your brother was. . . ah. . . rather easy to defeat." As if confirming this, Ruru gave a formal sort of grunt.

"Yeah, I know," May said with a small sigh, turning one dark blue eye to watch Max's small figure push Ash's house's door open and streak inside.

"How long has he been a Trainer?" Brendan queried, a curious glint in his ruby eyes. He jerked his slim neck so that his silver hair were not falling into his face, and for some obscure reason, May thought it horribly attractive; which, as strange as it was to think, was comparable to Drew's constant habit of flicking his hair. But, erasing all hair-related thoughts from her mind, May focused her attention on answering Brendan's question.

"About. . . six months, maybe." She answered truthfully, counting back the months on her bare fingers.

"Hm. I suppose he is pretty good for a Trainer of his experience. Most Treeko evolve at nine months. Unless, of course, Max had given Rare Candies to him. I suppose his Grovyle's approximate power level is thirty-three out of a hundred, right now." Brendan mused aloud, scratching the side of his cheek. May was fairly impressed by Brendan's arguably universal knowledge of Pokemon; though, May had never heard of a way to calculate a Pokemon's true power level before. Perhaps some new-fangled device could, but being able to figure out a precise level of a Pokemon just from battling it, that was probably something.

Drew sauntered over, interrupting May's train of thought and Brendan's verbal ponderings. Flicking his hair most sardonically, he said smoothly, "That was a quick battle."

Unsure of whom Drew was addressing, May turned to Brendan, who answered simply, "Yes." Expectedly, Brendan was glaring at the green-haired Coordinator; again, exactly _why, _May didn't know.

Then, turning towards May so that it was now obvious who he was addressing, Drew continued, "The Maples are sure a group of poor battlers."

May's eyes widened in indignation. "Hey! That's not true!" She noticed Brendan bite his lips, as if holding back an insult or two to throw at Drew.

"How do you explain this, then?" Drew asked slickly, raising his right hand and revealing a small stopwatch he was holding. Where he obtained the watch, May did not know, did not want to know, but it was the number on the flat, gray surface that worried May the most: Two minutes and twelve seconds?! Impossible! Surely Max couldn't suck that much?

Her throat feeling inexplicably sticky, May found herself unable to answer. Fortunately, though, Brendan burdened himself with the task. "That's pretty good, actually, considering that Max is only six months into being a Trainer."

Raising an eyebrow, Drew answered, "You _do _realize that the boy's been traveling for four solid years with his sister and a group of. . . ah. . . reasonably well-experienced Trainers?"

Looking harassed, Brendan replied, "Well. . . er. . ."

With a triumphant and disgustingly smug smile on his face, Drew redirected his piercing emerald gaze onto May's face—her heartbeat quickened, though she did not know why—and opening his mouth, May heard the words roll out, as cool as ice, "My point proven."

Feeling heat rise to her face, May retorted hotly, "For _your _information, Max has a lot of Pokemon to juggle Training, and just because he's seen _us _battle, doesn't mean that. . . er. . . doesn't necessarily mean that _he _can battle."

"Lame." Was all Drew said, and again he flicked his hair.

_Damn._

**Viridian City Gym, Viridian City, Kanto**

"Those slow idiots," Giovanni muttered to himself, dark eyes darting over the scene as the various scientists, black-clothed Grunts, and slightly more colorful Administrators scuttle around himself, preparing the dozens of Rocket helicopters for launch. The Leader had never fully registered the fact that it took quite a while to refuel, check, and prepare for flight fifty-seven helicopters all at once. Evidently, though, it was. Giovanni began questioning the wisdom of bringing the entire—well, _almost _entire—Kanto base with him, but decided that he would need a grand entrance to wherever he would be going.

Behind him, the shimmering green Dragon floated several feet above the ground, long neck bent slightly so that he would not slam into the ceiling, which would severely displease Giovanni. Mewtwo was hovering in mid-air, a purple, translucent bubble surrounding itself, protecting itself from any potential attacks. The Two Gods of Electricity and Fire each perched, respectively, on different chandeliers.

Twisting the diamond watch on his left wrist, Giovanni scowled nastily at a young scientist as he tripped over his own shoes and fell flat on his face in front of the Leader. Straightening himself up awkwardly, the spectacled worker readjusted his now-broken glasses and said in a trembling, nervous voice, "Sorry, Boss, I was just—"

"Acting like a complete nuisance. Team Rocket does not need members like these," Giovanni interrupted coldly, his beetle-black eyes glittering with malice. Shrinking backwards, the scientist squeaked something that could possibly be an apology, but Giovanni simply dismissed him with a wave of his hand. He had no time for dregs like the scientist, who couldn't even walk properly, and besides, there would be plenty of time in the future, after his plan had been satiated, to take care of such garbage.

Turning his attention to the four activated controllers sprawled out luxuriously in front of himself on a table, Giovanni once again indulged himself in savoring the utter brilliance of his plan. The sheer effort that had been put into just _beginning _the devious scheme was tremendous, but it had been worth every second of it. Butterfree fluttered in his stomach as he contemplated how he would go on to catching the last of the Legendary Bird Trio—Moltres and Zapdos had been disturbingly easy to capture, and he expected that Articuno would be no different.

After that, he would travel to Johto, where the stupid helicopters were already prepared, and where Domino, the lovely blond Administrator, would run a much more effective campaign than his blundering Kanto Administrators were doing. And, later, perhaps, Giovanni could get the deliciously curvy lady to run some 'errands' of his own. . .

Brushing the enticing thought away from his mind, Giovanni settled himself with admiring his ruby-and-sapphire encrusted gray controllers again, though his attention occasionally darted to Mewtwo when the psychic-typed Pokemon would give disgruntling noises in his meditation.

**Pallet Town, Kanto**

While May was arguing angrily with Drew, a serene, bored-out-of-his-skull, yet very sexy Silver Carr was shifting his body weight from one leg to the other; tilting his head to one side as to allow his long, red-scarlet hair to fall into his scarlet eyes, the experienced Pokemon Trainer rubbed absent-mindedly at a sore in his neck. His gaze, however, would frequently dart to the willowy body of the hat-wearing brunette and linger there; both out of. . . need he admit it. . . slight infatuation and. . . something. . . so. . . familiar. . .

Maria or Marina or whatever she was called that Silver was battling gave a high-pitched squeak as Silver's Nidoking fired a series of rapid horn-jabs—a perfect Megahorn technique—at her Misdreavous, startling the red-haired Trainer out of his reverie. Putting on an irritated grimace at his enemy's practically palpable little confidence in battle, Silver muttered in his usual cold voice, "Another 'Megahorn' to finish off that pathetic excuse for a Pokemon."

Though he definitely saw Marina's sea-green eyes glaze with hurt, Silver did not care that much; and though he saw his friend-rival, Jimmy, shout encouraging words to the blue-haired girl, it was apparent that she was not hearing his words. Oddly enough, despite Silver's cold attitude, the cerulean-haired girl still seemed attracted towards Silver. (Jimmy didn't appear to like this, though he fought rather well to hide it amidst various choruses of 'You rock, and you rule!')

The only girl who the redhead had eyes—both eyes—out for, however, was Turquoise. If that was her name, since Silver had not dared ask her before. She had been far too busy conversing with 'Gary', if that was his name. A smirk rose to his lips as Silver remembered the obnoxious auburn-haired Trainer.

Then, reluctantly turning his attention back to the battle, Silver watched as his bulky purple Nidoking charged fervently towards the floating, grey-blue Pokemon. Marina tensed, and somehow managed to bark, "Little Miss, 'Double Team'!" **(1) **without squealing of any sort.

The Ghost-typed Pokemon emitted a high-pitched grunt—if that was possible, in any case—and began repeatedly doubling her image until a whole line of Little Miss's had formed in front of Silver's Nidoking, who was grumbling darkly and darting his dark-purple gaze from one false image to the next. The considerable crowd, consisting mostly of girls ogling Silver, much to his intense displeasure, gasped, and talk of 'What will Silver do?' sprang up in hushed conversations.

"About time," Silver muttered in response to Marina's move. He saw the girl's vivid blue bangs shake in fear—not without cause, for when Silver used more than half of his effort, most of his opponents were screwed for good. Shaking his own bangs out of his feline left eye, the redhead murmured to his Nidoking, "'Aerial Ace'."

Silver saw Marina's jaw drop in shock—the flying move was, after all, known to usually flying-type Pokemon. Nidoking, however, utterly undeterred by the evident flaw in inherited moves of any sort, obediently leapt up into the sky, kicking up a good amount of brown dust as he did so, too. Surprisingly to all but Silver and his Nidoking, the Ground and Poison-typed Pokemon managed to gain a solid four meters between himself and the ground.

Then, rolling into a bulky ball with two forearms, sharp, small claws glowing a brilliant white, the Nidoking wheeled, aerially, through each of the false images of the Misdreavous until he found the real Little Miss and slashed mercilessly at the Ghost's side.

Losing her ability to hover in mid-air due to pain, Little Miss smashed into the grass, eyes shut and giving one final, ominous sort of spasm, the Misdreavous stopped moving. The old Pallet Town man who had been refereeing the match raised his flag towards Silver, and said the predicable words, "And the win goes to Silver Carr of. . . er. . . where were you born again, kid?"

The redhead shot one contemptuous glare at the old man that caused him to shudder, before spitting out in a voice that made it clear he considered the referee to be a waste of his time, "Goldenrod. Wherever, I do _not _come from Viridian City."

"Oh. . . okay then. . ." The balding referee said uncertainly before finishing his sentence. "And the win goes to Silver Carr of Goldenrod and his Nidoking."

Jimmy darted out from the crowd to plaster his arms around Marina's back, and Silver could finally go back to contentedly watching the pretty brunette, disturbed only at irregular intervals by Marina's choked sobs and the "Bweeeam" sound a Pokemon made when it was returned to its Pokeball.

**Sootopolis City Gym, Sootopolis City, Hoenn**

"Done yet?" Steven Stone demanded anxiously in a high voice that did not belong to himself. His cyan-haired friend raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"_Oui_Oh, and Lance was really in Johto at the time, so if this crisis really originates in the middle of Kanto I am afraid we will have to rely on the Kanto Elite Four and Kanto Gym Leaders to solve that part of the problem." Wallace answered, snapping his sleek white Pokenav shut after finishing the Match Call to Cynthia. Then, lowering his eyebrows, he asked with concern, "Surely you think we can plow through this crisis? We have before, many times." As if to emphasize this fact, the Champion laid his hand on Steven's right forearm.

The ex-Champion jerked away instinctively at the contact. Ignoring the confused and slightly hurt look that had been revealed after Wallace accidentally dropped his pretentious fatigue—though the cyan-haired man preferred "illusion"—the gray-haired man muttered uncertainly, though thankfully in his usual deep voice, "I. . . really don't know."

"_Bof, _come on, it can't be that bad, can it?" Wallace chided, slowly reaching his hand out again. This time, Steven did not flinch away at the contact, but instead he tried to melt into Wallace's warm, soft massage as the cyan-haired man's hand traveled up Steven's right arm.

"Probably not as bad as your attempt in putting French into every conversation," Steven said humorously but quietly, since he had no wish to offend Juan, who could easily be eavesdropping on their conversation.

Far from being mad, the serene Champion's crystalline eyes glittered with amusement. "Probably."

This managed to cause Steven to lift the corner of his mouth in a smile for just a second—just as second—before the reality of the situation overcame them, and Steven basked himself, albeit unpleasantly, in different ways to overcome the problem, though none surfaced readily to mind, and the few that he found were a far cry from being the shrewd, meticulous plans Steven's systematic mind could usually find. **(2)**

**Pallet Town, Kanto**

Garrison Blue-Green Oak stood, sweating, panting, in his battle against Paul, who dropped his cold demeanor and revealed exhaustion from the battle.

The auburn-haired Researcher's Arcanine crouched on the ground, usually royal-looking striped fur soiled by the battle, which had already lasted for twenty consecutive minutes—a most impressive number as set by both Trainer's records—and had not foreseeable end. _Damn it, no wonder Ash wanted to invite this guy, he's freaking strong! _Gary thought to himself, clenching and unclenching his fist repeatedly as if trying to reassure himself that he could win this battle. . . he couldn't lose, right? That would be an actual embarrassment, to _lose _the first round of a simple, make-shift battle tournament. . .

Then again, it had been a while since Gary had used his Pokemon in true battles—his 'practice' one with Ashy-boy didn't really count. Thinking of Ash bought an unexpected fluttering of Butterfree to Gary's stomach, for reasons unknown, and furrowing his eyebrows at his insides' disconcertion, the auburn-haired Researcher shook away all thoughts of the completely adorable—_eh, WHAT?!—_black-haired Trainer from his mind and refocused his attention on the battle.

It was true that Gary's Arcanine's battle skills had gone a little awry, and his normal lean canine physique had been fattened by days of luxurious eating and little vigorous training. The auburn-haired Researcher knew that it would take something huge to completely remold the fire-typed Pokemon's battling skills and body, though Gary had no idea of how _huge _that 'something' would be. . . there was no way for him to know, not then.

A large crowd, consisting of all of the people who had finished battling and a whole host of Pallet Town residents, congested around the borders of the battlefield. Their referee was a gray-haired woman. Feeling somewhat self-conscious, Gary allowed himself to look at the various assembled members of the crowd, noticing immediately Brendan-whatshisface's mop of silvery hair, and then that Drew-guy's shiny green hair.

Shaking away the pressure that the sheer number of people who had turned up to watch his and Paul's battle, Gary turned his amber eyes to survey with extreme dislike Paul and his Infernape, both of whom were breathing heavily. The Flame Pokemon surveyed the Legendary Pokemon **(3)** with contempt; Arcanine returned the favor, snarling viciously and curling his lips dangerously to reveal his row of sharp white teeth and two menacingly sharp dagger-like fangs.

"All right, Arcanine, enough with resting! Let's attack with another 'Flare Blitz'!" The auburn-haired Researcher ordered, when he could no longer stand the suspense. Arcanine growled in consent and allowed flames to erupt out of thin air and blanket himself; then, without further ado, promptly charged towards the Infernape, looking rather like a flaming fireball.

"Retaliate, too, with a 'Flare Blitz', Infernape!" Paul roared, pointing his finger with much vigor at the incoming Arcanine. Infernape nodded curtly, then allowed the flames on his head to cover his entire body, and charged towards Arcanine. The two Pokemon, seemingly of identical speed and attack power, ended up reflecting off each other when they collided.

Instinctively, each Fire-typed Pokemon shed their flames. Arcanine skidded a few feet on the ground before whirling around and lifting his lips into another menacing snarl. Infernape hissed angrily and slashed demonstratively at the air in front of him. Feeling a bead of fine sweat roll off his pointed cheek, Gary hurriedly ordered, "'Extremespeed', Arcanine!"

Grunting, the Legendary Pokemon charged at Infernape, a mere blur. Paul was unable to order a 'dodge' or a retaliatory attack, since the attack had happened so fast, and Infernape was obviously instructed to do only what Paul told him to do, and not react with instinct. As a result, the Flame Pokemon toppled over onto the ground, shrieking a pitiful, "Naaaape!" as his back crashed into the grass.

Gaining dominance in the battle, Arcanine howled triumphantly at the sun—which was a worthy substitute for the moon—and turned one large, almond-shaped brown-red eye at his Trainer, waiting for an order.

The auburn-haired Researcher, feeling victory within grasp, ordered swiftly, "Time to finish it off with a 'Fire Blast'!"

Flames grew inside of Arcanine's mouth, licking the outside air. Without pausing for even a split second, the Arcanine tossed his head trepidatiously and, fully unhinging his jaws, allowed the Fire-typed attack to careen out of his mouth, its path directed by the Arcanine's tongue. **(4) **Paul, face a twisted mask of horror, ordered, half a second before the 'Fire Blast' technique hit his Infernape, "Your own 'Fire Blast'!"

It was unclear to Gary how the Infernape managed to procure an attack of his own so quickly, especially when the 'Fire Blast' technique was just a hair's breadth away from scorching the Infernape's white-and-brown fur. But the Flame Pokemon managed to blast a fiery tunnel right back at Arcanine, meeting the Legendary Pokemon's 'Fire Blast' attack.

Grumbling with frustration as the Infernape staggered to his feet, still maintaining the Fire Blast technique that was struggling for power with Arcanine's Fire Blast, Gary ordered, "Use all of your power, Arcanine!"

The Legendary Pokemon nodded in consent and narrowed his eyes into thin slits in concentration. A pulse of fiery energy traveled along the Arcanine's 'Fire Blast' technique; when it came to the end of the fire attack, the pulse pushed Infernape's 'Fire Blast' backwards a little. Gary's muscles tensed, wondering if his Arcanine was going to win.

Paul, though, would not stand for it. "Infernape, all of your strength!" The Flame Pokemon responded by tightening its focus, forcing his 'Fire Blast' back to the center. The two fire techniques continued to burn against each other; Gary's mouth was a thin line of anxiety—

At last, Gary's Arcanine Fire Blast attack plowed through, tunneling unforgivingly through Infernape's attack and hit the Flame Pokemon, causing the Infernape to fly backwards and into the crowd. The various spectators scrammed as the fighting-typed Pokemon collided with them.

The fire on top of Infernape's head lessening considerably; the Flame Pokemon's head drooped to one side. Paul's face contorted with rage and shock, and the anger etched into every line on his face only accentuated when the aged referee raised a flag towards Gary and his Arcanine and declared in a final sort of voice, "The match goes to Gary Oak of Pallet Town and his Arcanine."

**Sinnoh Pokemon League Island, Sinnoh**

Cynthia Brennan uneasily snapped her scratched but still smooth-looking Pokenav shut. Pocketing the device in one of the many pockets inside her black waistcoat, the Champion stared forlornly out of the window, pondering the words of the Hoenn Champion, Wallace.

Death COM Three. This was not good.

Sighing, she brushed a stray lock of silky golden hair away from her green eyes and pushed open her window, scattering a few Starly that had been perched on the windowsill. The Sinnoh Champion smiled wryly as she watched the bird Pokemon take flight, cawing confusedly at each other, wondering why the blond woman had unexpectedly disturbed their peace.

Disturbed. That was exactly how Cynthia felt. Sighing again, she retreated her gaze from staring at the celeste blue, cloud-filled sky and glanced at her Poketch. Two thirty-five. There was still. . . _some _time before the duties of the Champion would truly grasp her.

Then, deciding that she might as well succumb to her responsibilities, the blond woman dug around in her pockets and pulled out her black Pokenav again, grimacing while reluctantly flipping open the screen and punching in various buttons. A few moments later, the photograph and jerky voice of Roark came on.

"Roark Silversmith here. Cynthia?"

"Yes. Wallace, you know, the Champion of Hoenn, has just informed me of a most imminent crisis that has, possibly and probably, already started."

There was a slight pause. "What do you mean? And, _Wallace? _If this is a Hoenn-based problem, he should know just as well as the other man that it's _his—_"

"Look, it's a problem that will affect all four regions," Cynthia put in, cutting off the studious Rock-typed Gym Leader. "Besides, it's Death COM Three already, and if we don't do something fast about it, Sinnoh might just. . . fall apart. We've been severely weakened since the _last _crisis, anyway, with those silly Galactic people running around the place."

"True, true. Wait, did you say Death COM _Three_"

"Yes."

"Oh, this is bad. So, er, what are we going to do about it, Cynthia?"

"Come to. . . hmm. . . Solaceon Town. I heard this was where Steven—whom Wallace told me discovered this crisis in the first place—found the prophecy with the help of two pupils. We would be better off examining this 'prophecy' for ourselves. And I'm sure that my grandmother won't mind us lodging in her house for the night."

"Prophecy? What prophecy?" Roark asked over the Pokenav, sounding utterly befuddled.

"Just come." Cynthia replied, somewhat irritably. Then, attempting compensating for sounding rude, the Champion said, "Please?"

"Yes, of course! I will definitely be there!" Roark replied stoutly.

"Great. I knew I could count on you." Cynthia replied graciously, ending the conversation by pressing on a button on the side of her Pokenav. Speaking to herself now, she muttered, "Hm. I just need to call the other seven now."

**Pallet Town, Kanto**

Lucas Diamond Hikari ground his teeth in annoyance. His Rotom, suspended in mid-air by its psychic abilities, was refusing to obey him in the battle against Misty. In fact, the only thing that the electric-and-ghost typed Pokemon would do that was actually beneficial to the battle was dodge the Water Trainer's Starmie's various water attacks. "Come on, Rotom! Attack with 'Discharge'!"

The Plasma Pokemon, predictably, did not obey Lucas. On the contrary, it let out a squeak of disobedience and flew into the air, now hovering many meters above the ground. Cringing irritably, Lucas considered leaping into the air, intending to give his Pokemon a good scolding, but restrained himself—he had no desire to be shocked by one of his Rotom's electric attacks.

Turning his attention back to the orange-haired Misty and her Starmie, Lucas felt a sense of failure overcome himself. He shouldn't have used Rotom in this battle! Damn the fact that the Plasma Pokemon was the only electric Pokemon on his team. And also damn the fact that Lucas's Cherrim had been knocked out by a wild Pidgeotto they had met on the way to Pallet Town.

The Water Gym Leader smirked satisfactorily. Lucas could not blame her at all for feeling that the win was hers. Even the Starmie, who rarely revealed emotion, was 'Meeee'-ing in celebration, under the rather obvious impression that it was going to defeat the Rotom.

Tugging anguishly at his short, dark-blue hair, Lucas cried desperately, "Please, Rotom! Please attack!" He collapsed onto the grassy ground, fighting back the urge to sob.

The Plasma Pokemon responded by chirping smugly and not attacking at all. Misty, taking advantage of the temporary distraction that was Lucas's hair-tugging, ordered, "All right, Starmie! Use 'Water Gun!'"

Lucas could almost hear the referee, who was a middle-aged straw-haired man, announce his loss in slow, formal words. The Starmie nodded in consent, the ruby embedded in the center of its body glistening with anticipation, and leapt into the air, wheeling around and at last firing a huge tunnel of icy-white water at Rotom, who was chirping too self-contentedly to notice that attack.

Covering his face with his hands, unable to watch the battle any longer, the azure-haired Trainer heard his Pokemon fall into the muddy ground—residue of a previously dodged Water Gun attack—with a dull 'thunk'. Parting his forefinger and middle finger, Lucas saw his Rotom, small, circular red body smothered in dirt and the ghostly electric sparks that usually flared wildly from its body weakened immensely, twitching prone on the ground. Occasionally, some sparks of neon-blue energy would fly from the Pokemon's body, the only signifier that it had not been knocked out completely.

"No!" Lucas cried, tearing his white and blue artists' hat off in sheer terror as his violet eyes widened in horror at the sight of his Pokemon's barely moving body. It then occurred to the azure-haired Trainer how fragile the Rotom really was, despite possessing some powerful electricity and ghost-typed attacks Lucas had witnessed Rotom use on some rare occasions, and how easy it could be to kill it. But, then again, Lucas had never heard of a Pokemon dying in a battle. . . though, for some reason, he felt that the possibility was opening up for some odd reason.

Now, Lucas had never considered himself a psychic of any sort, though he occasionally felt twinges of nausea in his stomach that had completely nothing to do with what he had eaten for lunch. **(5)** On all of these occasions, something bad would entail. For example, once he was lying in his sleeping bag, unable to sleep for some reason and feeling consecutive twinges of nausea bombard his insides, and half an hour later his Clefairy had crawled back to their camp, poisoned by a Pokemon attack of some sort and very close to being knocked out.

Thankfully Lucas had managed to find a Pokemon Center in due time, else his Clefairy surely would have been knocked out. Turning his attention back to his Rotom, who still lay pitifully on the ground, Lucas dared himself to avert his gaze to Misty and her Starmie. The girl was wearing an uncharacteristically smug grin on her face, and the Starmie, though face-less, emanated an air of equal smugness.

"Step out of the way, Lucas!" The redhead cried, flinging her unclothed right arm into the air. Starmie let out an eerie sort of 'Meeee', emphasizing its Trainer's words. Lucas, however, refused to budge; in fact, he hovered protectively over his Rotom, refusing to move. Something really bad would happen if he did, though his own mortality was at stake if he didn't move—Misty's purpling face was not a good sign, anyway.

"Fine!" The Gym Leader snapped irritably. "I'll _make _you move! Starmie, finish off the Rotom with a final 'Hydro Pump'!"

Squeezing his eyes shut and thinking _Please, Uxie, don't make this hurt, _the azure-haired boy braced himself for the powerful water attack that was sure to come. Five seconds passed. . . then ten seconds. . . then half a minute. Frowning to himself but still not daring to peek, Lucas wondered what was wrong with the Starmie. He could hear the small crowd that had lined up on the sidelines of the battle field mutter amongst themselves, anyway, though Lucas could not hear the exact contents of their conversation.

Finally daring himself (again) to open his eyes, Lucas noticed that, miraculously, a hazy, semi-transparent green barrier a foot in front of himself and his Rotom was effortlessly absorbing the Hydro Pump attack for them. He also noticed that Misty's jaw had dropped so low it was rather comical. Dubiously, the azure-haired Trainer looked behind himself, to notice that Rotom had lifted itself into the air, wearing an expression of tight concentration on its child-like face.

"Rotom. . .?" Lucas whispered to himself, disbelief clouding his mind. _It. . . It's protecting me? But. . . why?_

"Tohhhhm!" Rotom squealed, increasing the thickness of the 'Protect'. Starmie, unable to maintain the 'Hydro Pump' anymore, stumbled backwards as it stopped firing water at Lucas and Rotom.

"What. . . How. . . ?" Misty demanded, her eyes widening so that they resembled dinner plates. "But. . . !"

"Rotom. . . thank you," Was all Lucas had to say. The Plasma Pokemon gave a happy sort of squeak before slackening its concentration, thus ending the 'Protect' attack. "Now. . . Will you please use a 'Discharge' attack?" The azure-haired Trainer asked in his most polite voice.

"Rooooeh!" Rotom squealed in reply. Blue electricity flared from its small, round, red body, attacking with unerring accuracy the Starmie. Misty did not even have time to bark a dodge; her jaw was still hanging, her face the definition of perplexity and shock.

Starmie flew backwards—into the air—and landed loudly on the ground. Giving a final sort of, "Staaaarrrr," the Psychic-typed Pokemon fell still.

The yellow-haired referee raised the flag towards Lucas's direction, and before the words even tumbled out of the middle-aged man's mouth, the azure-haired teenager felt his heart throb with such pride and happiness it was deliriously easy to say which he was happier for, his victory or him finally befriending Rotom. "The match goes to Lucas Hikari of Twinleaf and his Rotom. . ."

**Pokemon League, Johto**

Although it had been ten minutes since Lance Dragonclaw had heard the forbidding message spill over his red Pokenav in the form of Wallace's silky, irritably serene words, he still had not informed the Elite Four members of the problem. This could only be attributed to Lance's reluctance to face danger—though he was a competent Champion, his title had been thwarted too many times over the past months for him to feel confident of plowing through yet _another _crisis.

Running a gloved hand through his spiky, long red hair, the Dragon Tamer stretched and readjusted his scarlet cape, tightening it so that it was no longer threatening to loosen and tumble to his boot-wearing feet. Lance rubbed fatigue out of his tapered eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the immense pressure that had once again been thrust upon him. He decided that he should try to watch some television before informing the other Elite Four members.

Lance found the slim crimson remote lying on one of the steps that led to the Blue Room. He picked it up and, directing it pointedly at the ceiling, hit a series of buttons.

A sleek plasma television flipped out of the ceiling. The red-haired Champion turned a vaguely interested eye to eyeball the screen. He flipped around, hoping to find a decent television show on, but everything, apparently, had been interrupted for an 'important news report'.

Frowning, he decided to simply see for himself what this 'important news' was. A brown-blue haired woman, dressed in a professional black suit, was clutching a microphone in her right hand and practically screaming into it—owing to the fact that it was thunder-storming overhead—Lance could barely make out her words, "This is Gabby, your favorite reporter! T.Y. and I are here to report a most peculiar incident occurring in none other than Viridian City!

"Only a few days previously, eye witnesses claimed to have seen a large green Oriental-styled dragon spiral out of Viridian's Rocket Game Corner! Some even have claimed to have seen a humanoid figure riding atop the dragon, while others claimed to have seen another human figure, though this one _purple _for some obscure reason, floating next to the green dragon!

"Sadly, however, there's no live footage of this remarkable incident! And, here's something, perhaps, even more peculiar than the green dragon bursting out of the ceiling—evidently, a very strong psychic pulse had traveled from the center of town, none other than the Game Corner, and had destroyed all, I repeat, _all _of the city's electrical equipment!

"And that concludes our—"

The news report abruptly ended, and Lance found himself staring at a yoga class instead. _This is not good, _the Champion thought to himself, left orange eye narrowing. _Time to call Agatha and the rest._

**Pallet Town, Kanto**

Ashton Red Ketchum tapped his foot impatiently on the grassy ground, waiting for his opponent Dawn to show up. It was roughly three o'clock, and he had been waiting the better part of two hours for the blue-haired girl to show up. Most of the other competitors had been done with the first round. The black-haired Trainer spared an oblique glance towards the scoreboard to notice that all but Dawn and him were through with the preliminaries.

Gary was _still _talking the hat-wearing brown-haired girl, who laughed far too many times during their conversation for Ash to extinguish the butterflies in his stomach. The auburn-haired Researcher, Ash noted hopefully, didn't seem too happy about his conversation with the brunette; Ash hoped sincerely that Gary disliked Turquoise (was it?) as much as he did.

_Why'm I staring at him, anyway? _Ash scowled inwardly, though his obsidian eyes never left Gary's back. He noticed with admiration that when the auburn-haired Trainer would shift his weight from one leg to another that his shoulders, albeit not exactly slim, moved with a fluid ease Ash venerated. He began wondering if his own shoulders moved as easily.

And since when did Gary get so darn tall? Not to mention attractive. _Emphasis _on the attractive. Perhaps being a Researcher gave one good looks? No, in that case Professor Oak should look like a model, which he didn't. Ash blushed as he thought of his own highly unattractive physique—he was ridiculously skinny and had very little muscles on top of that—and wondered if Gary thought he was ugly.

_Oh god, maybe why he's not talking to me is because I'm fat, _Ash thought with horror, clutching his thin cheeks.

As if on cue, the blue-haired girl rushed out of his house, closing the door behind her with a loud 'bang' that startled Ash out of his worrying whether or not he was actually fat but didn't realize it. The black-haired Trainer turned one dark eye to impatiently watch as Dawn bounded towards him, having changed from her green gown back to her usual clothes.

_What _takes _girls so long? _Ash wondered to himself as Dawn breathed to him, "Sorry Ash, I was just changing and reapplying my makeup."

"For two hours?" Ash was unable to stop from blurting out.

"Mm, sorry," Dawn replied with a faint blush on her face, stealing a sidelong glance at the Tyson boy, who was talking in a dejected sort of way with Kenny, who was patting him sympathetically on the back. Concern knitted itself into her thin face. "So, I guess we should have the battle now?"

"Yeah," Ash said grudgingly, resisting the impulse to see if Gary had stopped talking to Turquoise and reaching for a random Pokeball on his belt. He selected one at chance and flung it into the air with inexplicable angry vigor. It flew up for a solid three yards before the red hood of the Pokeball, releasing a jet of equally red light that formed the figure of a simian Pokemon.

Ash's Aipom bounced up and down on his pawed tail while Dawn sent out her Floatzel. The Sea Weasel Pokemon lashed his two white-yellow tipped tails and waited for the Long Tail Pokemon to make the first move.

The referee, who jerked awake when she realized that the match was actually beginning, pushed herself to her feet and, brushing scarlet hair into a gelled arc, declared in a somewhat forcibly deep voice, "Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town versus Dawn Hikari from Twinleaf Town! Match begin!"

"Okay, Aipom! Let's start things off with a 'Swift'!" Ash ordered, feeling the rush of adrenaline only a good battle could bring coursing through his veins. Aipom agreed with a squeal and promptly leapt into the air, swinging his long purple tail in front of himself and causing myriad amounts of golden star-shaped objects to pop out of thin air and firing them at the Floatzel.

"Dodge with a fast 'Aqua Jet'!" Dawn cried, just in time as the Sea Weasel Pokemon evaded the 'Swift' attack by speeding forwards through the air propelled by mouth-originated cold water that covered his entire body, headed straight towards Aipom.

"Aipom! Counter with 'Focus Punch'!" Ash ordered, pointing his finger at Dawn's Floatzel. The Long Tail Pokemon shut his large eyes to summon the energy it required to fire the attack, but the Floatzel hit Aipom in stomach right before Aipom had gathered the required amount of energy.

"Good one, Floatzel!" The blue-haired girl cheered, tugging excitably at the two thick strands of azure hair protruding from under her sock-like hat. The Sea Weasel Pokemon trotted back to his Coordinator's side, flicking his two tails lazily from side to side as if to say 'but of course'. Ash gnawed his teeth in frustration—Dawn's Floatzel was just as good as his Aipom when it came to matters of speed, and had just the upper hand in attack power.

"Aipom! You okay?" Ash asked as the purple Pokemon dizzily straightened himself. After another few seconds, the Aipom regained his focus and nodded to Ash. "Good! That's just one hit, right? Anyway, Aipom, use another 'Focus Punch' on Floatzel!"

Readily complying, the Aipom bounded forwards, focusing his energy a lot faster this time. The Floatzel flattened himself closer to the ground, preparing himself to make a faster getaway should Dawn give the order to. "Um. . . um. . . attack with 'Aqua Jet', quick!" Dawn ordered hesitantly. The Floatzel, in a split second of distrust of his Coordinator's little self-esteem, turned his elongated rodent-like head to face her in uncertainty. That second was all it required for Aipom to happily slam a glowing tail-paw into the Floatzel's back.

The Sea Weasel Pokemon flipped through the air, writhing his sleek body in pain, before landing on the ground twitching feebly. An ugly red, hand-shaped blotch quickly appeared on the Floatzel's orange fur, and the Water-typed Pokemon's sunny yellow floatation sacks seemed to shrink as the Floatzel continued to be harmed by the powerful 'Focus Punch' attack.

"Floatzel! Are you okay?" Dawn asked shrilly, her already high voice escalating even further. She collapsed onto her bare knees to tenderly touch the tip of the furred dorsal fin on the Sea Weasel's head, but he only twitched in more agony.

"We're going to win this one, Aipom!" Ash cried happily, jumping up and down in fervent joy. "A final 'Swift'!"

Stars once again burst out of thin air and slashed towards the Floatzel, but the Sea Weasel Pokemon had been coated by a layer of red light and was returned into his Pokeball. Dawn, wearing an uncharacteristically dark and shameful expression, sighed and pushed the Pokeball into her yellow cylinder-shaped bag.

"And the win goes to Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town and his wonderful, awesome, delightful Pikachu! Er, I mean Aipom!" The female referee declared, raising a pink—_wait, pink? What does she think I am, a girl?—_flag towards Ash's direction.

Ash's Aipom gave a series of happy hoots and bounced onto Ash's vacant left shoulder—the other one was occupied with a 'chaa'-ing Pikachu, who continuously nuzzled his cheek into the side of his Trainer's as if to congratulate Ash for winning. Though Ash felt the familiar hot rush of triumph overcome him, he couldn't help but feel bad for Dawn, who was now walking with a dejectedness rival to that of her blond friend's towards her group of chums.

"Pikachu, do you think I should've let Dawn win?" Ash asked his electrical mouse Pokemon. His scratchy voice was laced with uncertainty, and he felt a feminine qualm—not dissimilar to the many others he had felt over the years—hit him.

"Kaa," Pikachu chided warmly, wrapping his tail around Ash's hat as if to say, _no, what you did was only right. _Or at least Ash hoped that was what the Pokemon had said. . . then again, he wasn't exactly thinking clearly, owing to the fact that he was pelting blindly towards Gary.

"Gary! I won! I won!" The black-haired Trainer shouted gleefully, jumping up and down on the spot and nearly causing Pikachu and Aipom to fall off his shoulders.

Said researcher readily exited conversation with Turquoise, who was wearing a practically murderous expression. Ash felt his feeling elate. "Won against who?" Gary inquired in his usual nasal voice, looking down at Ash. _Wow. . . he's even taller up close. . ._

"Against Dawn! Over there!" Ash replied, jabbing a bare finger with unnecessary excitability towards his blue-haired friend's direction. Dawn was sobbing uncontrollably into her blond friend's shoulder, who had stopped lamenting to Kenny and was now matronly patting Dawn on the back.

The black-haired Trainer turned his pair of melanic eyes towards Gary in the hopes of receiving praise of any kind from his old rival. Unfortunately, all the auburn-haired Researcher did was smirk and continue to ask, "How old is she, anyway, Ash? And how long has she been a Trainer?"

"Umm," Ash faltered, thinking. Upon reflection he realized he had never inquired as to the ages of neither May or Dawn, or even Misty. Oddly enough he knew how old Gary was to the minute. "I think, um, she's around thirteen or something, and when we first met, she was ten, and hadn't had any real experience with Pokemon"

"So thirteen minus ten is. . ." Gary prodded expectantly. Cogs in Ash's mind began to turn, though it was a full twenty seconds before he finally answered.

"Four! It's four!" Ash exclaimed, happy that he could answer. However, he instantly realized that he had made a mistake when both Pikachu and Aipom shot him confused looks.

"No, idiot, it's three," Gary corrected, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Dawn has been a Trainer for _three _years."

"_Ohh. . ._" Ash said after a moment; the answer had finally dawned upon him. **(6)**

"So, you beat a thirteen-year-old. That's not much to boast about. You _are _three years older, after all," Gary said, elaborately offending Ash. Instead of feeling angry, however, Ash merely lowered his head humbly. "_I, _on the other hand, defeated your silly rival Paul, who is off sulking somewhere, and who you haven't managed to triumph over yet."

"You beat Paul?" Ash asked incredulously. Next to Gary, Paul had been one of the toughest Trainers Ash knew personally; though Ash did wonder if a myriad of insults more often than not utilizing the word 'pathetic' in some form or another (for example, 'pathetic loser', 'pathetic idiot', or Paul's favorite, simply 'pathetic') thrown at him counted as being acquainted. He began wondering why he had invited Paul in the first place, though recalled very vaguely that it was Dawn who suggested the notion.

"Yes, I did," Gary bragged, puffing up his chest.

"Oh, wow," Ash muttered again, slowly beginning to believe it. _Never thought Paul would be defeated. Then again, if anyone could do it, it's Gary._

The black-haired Trainer wanted to ask Gary some more things, like exactly _how _he managed to beat Paul, and how it felt to beat who Ash informally nicknamed 'The Iron Trainer' (oddly enough met with giggles from Dawn), when his mother's high voice wafted over from his far right, "All right! Time for a short break before we start the Contest battles! Refreshers over here!"

Immediately forgetting all questions he was about to ask Gary, Ash zoomed towards the direction of his mother's voice, though not without glancing obliquely at Gary and hoping that he wouldn't talk with Turquoise anymore. Redirecting his thoughts upon the food, Ash's obsidian eyes widened with happiness as they registered the presence of fruit punch.

He had consecutively downed three cups of the punch before his mother apprehended him and pointed towards the other arriving people by way of explanation. Ash noticed that besides from the people he had called to gather for the reunion, a bunch of Pallet Town residents had mixed in with the crowd; he didn't mind all that much, but began to feel rather possessive of his food. Heck, he had sacrificed a good bowl of mashed potatoes to Drew and that Brendan fellow.

"Mmm," Ash grunted to express his discontent, though he continued looking through the congregating crowd, searching for Gary. When he did not find Gary's mass of auburn spikes among the other hair colors, he began looking for Paul, and didn't find him as well. Shrugging, Ash continued to drink his punch before, after finishing half a dozen large jugs of the drink, proceeding to the sandwiches. _This could take a while._

**Viridian City Gym, Viridian City, Kanto**

"Sir, we are, uh, we are finished with the, uh, the preparations," An unimportant researcher stuttered, tentatively approaching the black-clad Team Rocket leader.

"So we are," Giovanni said, struggling to hide the excitement in his voice. He glanced at his watch, which read '5:34'. He then turned to look at the assembled researchers, Grunts, Officers—which were a relatively newly created rank consisting of the more competent and skilled Grunts, and of course, the Admins. All were respectfully bowing down towards Giovanni. The researcher who had informed the Leader hurriedly rushed to immerse himself with the others.

Giovanni lazily gathered the four controllers and attached them to his dark belt, making sure to clip them tightly. He then touched a button on Mewtwo's controller. The serene amethyst bubble the Clone Pokemon had been floating in immediately burst, and Mewtwo's feline purple eyes widened, glowing a blank red.

Moltres and Zapdos fluttered down from where they had previously been perched, and began circling overhead Giovanni, chirping monotonously. Rayquaza awoke from his temporary nap and, without even yawning, immediately flew into mid air and waited for Giovanni to issue an order.

"Let's go."

**Author's Notes:**

**(1) Marina's Misdreavous is really actually nicknamed Little Miss.****  
(2) ****Yay for the Originshippy ness! Eh. Just ignore if you don't like.  
****(3)Not to be confused with an actual 'Legendary' Pokemon (e.g. Rayquaza, Deoxys, Mew. . .). This is actually what Arcanine is referred to as in the Pokedex (eg. How Swampert is the 'Mud Fish Pokemon'. . .)  
****(4) I got the FireBlast-directed-by-tongue idea from the book 'Eldest', actually, so no, the genius of this idea cannot be claimed by me.  
****(5) Lucas? Psychic? Just wait and see.  
****(6) No pun intended!**

**FINALLY DONE!! Efufu, that took quite a while.**

**As another side-note, all of Brendan's Pokemon were nicknamed after Ruby (or Brendan) from the Pokemon Special Manga's Pokemon nicknames. Just so you knew. (With the exception of Dradra.)**

**I've also changed the plot around a little, so it's much darker and more serious than before. Heheh. –scribbles madly on sheet of paper entitled 'Plot Outline' –**

**Oh, and in case you haven't noticed, I didn't use a single page divider. It's just me, but I really don't like those things. . . Consequentially, I simply inserted scene changes, which elongated the story. But hey, it's an epic for a reason! (Well, without those annoying chronological jumps.)**

**I got lazy with some of the battles. . . efufufu. . . big deal. xD This chapter turned out way longer than I expected in any case. Though I dun really like it.**

**Again, let's give Daydreamer Gal another round of applause! –claps–**

**Anyway. . . Review, please!**


	8. Pallet Town's Assimilation

**Hey all! Once again, thank you all SO much for the reviews. They really make my day. And sorry for the lateness of this chapter. . . lol.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Pokemon.**

**Thanks to: Daydreamer Gal for beta'ing this chapter—but more correctly, going to beta this chapter.**

**DAMNIT****！　****I got so far with this chapter and then everything just suddenly deleted. . . ;; So I apologize for any lack in quality. ZOMG I AM SO SORRY FOR THE EXTREME LATENESS OF THIS CHAPTER ;; but hopefully the plot move-on will compensate for that XD**

**You will now find out why this story is rated 'T'.**

**Chapter Eight: Pallet Town's Assimilation**

**Ketchum Residence, Pallet Town, Kanto**

◊ "**I. . . STILL CAN'T BELIEVE** I lost," Dawn Berlitz Ikari gasped, shortly after she had finished sobbing into Tyson's shoulder. She vaguely realized that they were inside Ash's house by registering the blurry haze of brown in front of herself as the interior of the wooden house and the slightly stuffy smell of a typical building.

"It's okay, Dawn," Kenny reassured her warmly in his usual child-like voice.

"Yeah, Ash is a really tough Trainer, Dawn!" Tyson reassured her cheerfully, so like his usual energetic self. Dawn sniffed and rubbed the last of her tears away on her napkin and sneezed raucously into the thin piece of disposable cloth. Cranking her crystalline violet eyes open wider, she registered the alarmed look on a passing Brendan (was that his name? Dawn wasn't entirely sure) face. She wondered if it was because of the snot clinging to her hand, which she quickly wiped away.

The blue-haired girl sniffed again to show that she appreciated her friends' support. After clearing all debris out of her eyes, she noticed that Zoey and Kenny were jaxterponed alongside each other, both looking sympathetic for her cause; Lucas was nowhere to be seen, while Tyson continued rubbing Dawn's sock-hat to comfort her. Though a touchy person at best times, the girl welcomed her friend's physical reassurance; perhaps because he lost as well, perhaps she simply liked the touch.

"Look on the bright side, Dawn," Zoey said suddenly and unexpectedly. Dawn instinctively looked upwards, and Tyson instinctively pulled his hand away; she regretted the loss but focused her attention on the red-haired girl's next words, "There's still the Contest."

"Right!" Dawn said, purple eyes lighting up with renewed energy. However, a cold realization then flooded back into her stomach, and she tottered back on her chair. "But. . . I'm going against. . ."

"Me." Zoey finished for her, smiling in a wry sort of way and distorting her boyish features. Kenny gasped unnecessarily loudly, brown-yellow gaze darting rapidly from Dawn to Zoey. The blonde boy simply bore a sure expression, having high hopes placed in the blue-haired girl's abilities. . . Dawn wasn't so sure, however. She had never managed to defeat Zoey before—in fact, Zoey was the one who had defeated her and that Robert guy to claim the Ribbon Cup.

"Gah!" Dawn cried desperately, flinging her bare, milky-white arms into the air and flailing her limbs wildly as panic invaded her mind. "I'll _never _be able to beat Zoey! She's too strong!"

"Thanks for the compliment, Dawn," Zoey said, an odd shine in her green-gray eyes as she chuckled. "But you were pretty close to beating me in the last battle. . . If Purugly hadn't managed to land a lucky hit on Prinplup, you probably wouldn't have lost."

"Wah! Don't remind me!" Dawn wailed. She was a sunny girl who hated dwelling on losses and usually brushed these unsettling thoughts away with upbeat choruses of 'No need to worry!' Kenny looked empathetic for her cause—he, too, knew how hard Zoey was to beat, having lost to her on all occasions they met in battle—but for some reason he was not cheering Dawn up like he usually would have.

_Oh god, perhaps Kenny cares more for Zoey than he does for me? _Dawn thought, growing panicky. But no, that couldn't be it—in total, he probably hadn't been in Zoey's presence for more than a few days at best; how. . . how then?

Tyson, on the other hand, assumed an uncharacteristically studious facial expression, entirely on Dawn's side. Her heart fluttered at his unanimous support, though she worried slightly if Zoey found this offending—she _was _Dawn's rival, after all. . . though at times Dawn perhaps tried a little too hard to prove her worth in front of the uneasily pleased carrot-haired girl. Well, Dawn was naturally ambitious; people usually said she was very similar to her mother in this aspect.

Thinking of her mother and her exotic dome-shaped hairdo brought waves of nasty nostalgia to the blue-haired girl. She wondered how her mom and her mom's Glameow were doing at home, and if Glameow's odd taste in Poffins had subsided. It had taken Dawn many failed tries to find a flavor of Poffin that satisfied her picky Pachirisu. (She had given up entirely on her other Pokemon.)

"Oh, gah," Dawn murmured under her breath, pushing herself out of her chair and steeling her heart for her battle against Zoey. A battle is a battle, after all, and the blue-haired girl had no intention of losing to the orange-haired Coordinator simply because Zoey was her friend. Tyson commended Dawn's apparent boost in self confidence with a hearty beam and helped her readjust her pink scarf.

Without waiting for Kenny, Zoey, or even Tyson, the girl strode out of the house, closing the door behind herself and trotting down the short flight of stone steps. Sunshine washed over her exposed limbs and face, and she sampled the spring scent slowly, the same way one might sample a foreign delicacy.

"What're you doing, breather girl?" The cold, nasty voice of none other than Paul sounded. Dawn opened her eyes, blinked, and whipped around.

Said maroon-haired Trainer towered a good foot over herself, handily blocking the sun. Dawn instinctively recoiled under his fierce golden gaze and averted her own amethyst. Oh good Uxie, how he freaked her out at times. Perhaps it was a good thing that they had hardly met during Dawn's three-year tenure in Sinnoh; then again, Paul was awfully good looking and easily the most attractive boy she knew (sort of) personally.

_Dawn, don't judge based on appearance,_ she chastised herself. Especially since she knew just how cruel and indifferent Paul could be, and always was.

"My name's not _breather girl_." The blue-haired girl retaliated crossly, folding her arms over her chest and defiantly sticking her chin up. "It's Dawn."

"Whatever. Do I look like I care for a pathetic girl like you?" Paul sniped back. Dawn blinked again. Hardly anyone dared insult her, for fear of their own mortality, and yet here was the boy, dissing her like he didn't have a care or bother in the world. It was then, when anger began bubbling in the pit of Dawn's stomach, that she realized that he, too, had lost the first round of the battle tournament.

"Hey, didn't you lose to that Gary guy?" Dawn piped up. She was rather taken aback to see a flash of what was unmistakably pain and embarrassment cross Paul's yellow eyes—even shame—but then it disappeared so quickly that she began wondering if it was simply a surge of derisiveness that had surfaced. However, Dawn's instincts were naturally good (something she also inherited from her mother, though Lucas had also inherited this quality and was seemingly more in-control of it, whatever it was) and she had a gut feeling that Paul was actually somewhat abashed. Dawn even began feeling a little sorry for the Trainer.

"That's none of your business," He snapped, turning away from Dawn, and any sympathy Dawn might have felt for the maroon-haired boy was gone.

"Well, I was just asking. No need to get so pissed," Dawn retorted, unable to restrain her fiery temper. She resisted the urge to grab Paul by the shoulders and force him to face her, but decided against it.

Paul grunted in reply, and began striding away. The blue-haired girl's meticulous purple eyes, so keen when it came to spotting details, noticed that his movements—usually so smooth and self-assured—seemed somewhat jerky. Fitting of his personality, admittedly. Well, Dawn really shouldn't care too much, should she? After all, she barely talked with the boy. However, she could not help but feel somewhat. . . well. . . wistful. Almost as if she craved his presence.

_Oh, Dawn, that battle you lost against Ash is really getting to you_, the girl told herself, shaking her head and flexing her arms to rid herself of the aftereffects of her temporary reverie. She didn't have to wait very long for someone to come along and distract her, though. Tyson came bursting out of the door a few seconds later, promptly crashing into Dawn's side and knocking her onto the grassy ground.

"Ouch, Ty!" The blue-haired girl groaned as she stood up and helped her blond friend to his feet. His yellow hair had been ruffled from the collision, and flecks of brown dirt marred his otherwise flawlessly porcelain complexion. She could not help but allow a small giggle to escape her throat at his innocent appearance.

"Sorry, Dawn. I guess I wasn't looking where I was going," Tyson murmured apologetically, blushing crimson and deliberately averting his cerulean gaze to his knees.

"It's okay, Tyson," Dawn reassured him, allowing a kind smile to grace her facial features. He dipped his head in thanks and opened his mouth slowly, evidently to say something, but Dawn was distracted when Kenny beckoned for her to come to the grass field.

Helping her blond friend up to his feet, Dawn walked towards Kenny, raising quizzical eyebrows. "What is it, Kenny?"

It was then that Dawn noticed how Kenny's usually perky face had blanched enormously. He raised a shaky finger to point at a place some way behind Dawn. Nonplussed, Dawn swiveled around, to find herself staring at Drew and Brendan, locked in a staring contest of some sort. Both tall boys wore angry, contemptuous scowls, and both boys did not so much as bat an eyelid at the increasing amount of spectators.

"What. . . ?" Dawn muttered in confusion, tentatively approaching the thickening crowd, asserting herself among the audience before they could obscure her view from the oddity of a scene.

Though Dawn was probably not the sharpest tack in the drawer or the brightest bulb in the house, she certainly was not oblivious to the air of her surroundings. And it was obvious that the feelings pervading the air of this particular scene were undoubtedly less than friendly. Drew and Brendan, both rather charming teenaged boys on the whole, Dawn had to admit, wore uncharacteristically nasty snarls, and the green-haired boy had rolled his sleeves while Brendan had compensated for by throwing his gloves onto the ground.

When it began looking as if the situation was headed a bleak downhill, the bandana-wearing May suddenly appeared from the crowd, pushing her way between the two boys. Wearing a smile that looked more like a grimace, May was trying to the two teenagers apart from each other. Dawn watched on, vaguely registering the appearance of Tyson, Kenny, and Zoey beside herself.

"Heh," May said, falsely cheerily, "Let's. . . let's not hurt each other, oh-okay?"

As if her words were some sort of signal, Brendan and Drew immediately relinquished their hold on the staring contest at the exact same time. The white-haired boy's ivory face flushed an ugly shade of maroon. The green-haired teenager flicked his bangs with his right index and middle fingers, and this action, usually casual and suave, looked more irritable than anything.

The situation becoming apparent that it would not evolve into a fight, the crowd accordingly began dissipating. May seemed to breathe a sigh of uncertain relief. Dawn felt bad for the girl, but didn't exactly know how to comfort her—already, her little brother and green-golden-haired boy friend had appeared by her side, so it seemed that any efforts Dawn might exert would be futile.

Shrugging, the blue-haired girl turned away and immediately, Tyson began discussing something random with her. A slight smile tugged at Dawn's light-colored lips, and though she was sure Drew and Brendan's rivalry was going nowhere good, everything looked all right for her. Dawn thought that she might as well enjoy the precious few minutes she had before the make-shift Contest started.

**Kanto Skies**

"S-sir. . . we're passing P-pewter City. Do you want to s-stop or s-something?"

Giovanni lazily turned one dark eye to survey the skinny shaking grunt in front of himself. _Pathetic excuse for a Team Rocket member_, he thought to himself, suppressing a snort of utter disgust.

"No, you bumbling idiot." He replied sharply, glancing at his diamond-wrought watch with dull interest before waving his hand to dismiss the grunt. With a scared glance at the floating purple Pokemon some meters right of Giovanni, the low-leveled Team Rocketeer scampered away quickly, leaving Giovanni to dwell in his idle boredom. Wondering where his Persian went, he lazily yawned and began shifting around in the desk in front of himself to find his prized Pokemon's special whistle.

The jet plane gave a turbulent lurch, and papers flew out of the drawer and onto the carpeted floor. Cursing loudly, Giovanni began stooping down to pick up all the papers, but then remembered that he had a powerful psychic Pokemon at his disposal.

"Mewtwo, get it for me."

The Clone Pokemon shifted its long purple tail before opening its eyes to look at the mess on the floor. Then, lavender eyes glowing a brilliant orange, Mewtwo instantaneously rearranged the papers into a neat stack inside the drawer with a powerful burst of telekinetic energy. Giovanni didn't say thank-you, because there was no need to.

He contented himself with observing his manicure and wondering how long it would take before they reached the shore.

**Pallet Town, Kanto**

Wally Winter never thought of himself as unobservant.

Frail—yes. Weak—hell, yes. But unobservant? Shaking his head and sighing under his breath, the golden-green-haired fifteen-year-old tiredly raised his green eyes to survey May arguing animatedly with her brother—undoubtedly over some trivial matter, such as the size of her pores—and Brendan and Drew hung around sulkily in the background, occasionally shooting each other angry glares but for the most part, simply looking sulky.

Oh, Latios. How could Wally miss this?—and he thought he was in touch with his emotional/spiritual side. Brendan hated Drew's guts. Drew hated Brendan's guts. And Wally now knew why.

He was not upset because he himself was attracted the object of attraction both Drew and Brendan sought—no, his relationship with her was purely platonic; she just wasn't his 'type', or it could be vice versa. As if any girl would like a sickly boy like himself, who can't say two sentences without having an insane coughing fit.

Shuddering, Wally tugged on his left long white sleeve, as if doing so would allow more heat to spread throughout his body. Naturally slight and frail, the latter crisp afternoon air was not exactly beneficial to his health. His mother would throw a fit if she found out, in any case. He could almost imagine her naggy voice.

'Wally! Wally! You look so _cold! _Come in, have a cup of hot chocolate, and let me take a look at your inhaler!'

The teenager winced slightly as he fingered the inhaler Brendan had so kindly sown on Wally's collar. Invisible to the unwatchful eye, a slightly more observant onlooker may notice that there was an unnatural bump in the front of Wally's T-shirt. This bump harbored his inhaler. Stopping his wince, Wally continued his pondering of his asthmatic condition. Certainly, he did not resent his mother; it was simply that at times he felt that she cared perhaps a little too much for him. Maybe it had something to do with being an only child; maybe it was more because he was suffering from a severe case of chronic asthma.

Well, Wally couldn't pretend that spending two years in Verdanturf didn't help. Two years ago, if he had come to Pallet Town, the whole experience would've been nothing less than a terrifying ordeal. Naturally shy, Wally would not have asked for help—and he really hated being offered it; not because he wished to isolate himself, but rather because he hated those sympathetic stares, when obviously the 'sympathizer' knew nothing—or very little—of the true nature of his condition.

He simply didn't want to think about it all. Turning away from his friends—his only friends—Wally made his way through the gathering crowd, who had undoubtedly come out to observe the sunset and listen to the news Delia Ketchum was to shout sooner or later regarding the makeshift Contest. Oh, blast it. He didn't even enter himself in anything.

Tears accumulated in the corners of his overly large, almond-shaped eyes. He turned his back on the small crowd and began walking towards the outskirts of Pallet Town. Even with his less-than-average vision, which was another byproduct of Wally's health condition, the edges of the small town were clearly visible.

Pushing his way through the thicket of bushes, Wally stumbled upon a clearing. Glancing around himself, he deduced that the circular glade he was now in could be no larger than twenty meters in diameter before trees or shrubs blocked his way. Sighing again, the green-blonde collapsed upon a nearby tree stump. Lazily, he unclipped a Pokeball from his belt and tossed it into the air.

The spherical capsule device snapped open with a 'hissing' sound as chalky vapor seeped out of the interior. A beam of red light sprang from inside the Pokeball, rapidly forming the silhouette of a feminine humanoid Pokemon. A few seconds later, the smoke had cleared and Wally's Gardevoir had fully materialized.

It was then that Wally detected the sudden drop in temperature. His Gardevoir, sensitive to emotional, psychic, and physical alterations, must have also felt the sudden coldness in the air. Subconsciously, he shivered, and the Embrace Pokemon turned to eye her Trainer with some concern, her celadon eyes widening. Wally groaned—what he needed least of all now were inquiries from his very own Pokemon.

Fortunately for him, Gardevoir had sensed defensiveness swell inside her Trainer and refrained from commenting upon his health. Instead, she decided to remark on the weather.

'It's getting pretty cold, isn't it?' She said telepathically. Wally, who was used to communicating with his Pokemon mentally, merely nodded in reply. 'And in the middle of May, too.'

At the mention of the name of the month and one of his best friend's names, Wally awoke from his small trance with a start. "Wait, you're right. It _is _May the twentieth. . . it shouldn't get this cold," He mused, half to himself and half to his Gardevoir, "Hey, Gardevoir, can you measure the temperature right now?"

The Embrace Pokemon dipped her head obediently and shut her eyes. A vein near her temples pulsed as she tightened her concentration; Wally watched on. He could almost feel her drawing energy from her the air around her—a special talent of his Gardevoir—and approximately ten seconds later, the Gardevoir had relaxed her focus and opened her eyes again.

"Well. . .?" asked Wally, rather impatient.

'It's fifteen degrees Celsius. And dropping.'

———

Maybelline Sapphire Maple sighed for what she felt was the hundredth time.

Brendan and Drew were engaged in another staring contest, and the two were so concerned with their trivial competition one might think that they were competing for a truckload of solid gold, with matching diamonds. However, May, being May, didn't know the true nature of what they were 'fighting' for. At the present moment, she was concerning herself with finding a way to distract the two. May had never even known that Drew would concern himself with someone other than. . . well. . . himself.

She couldn't think of anything. Sighing again, she plopped down on the wooden floor, cringing slightly as her bosom hit the ground rather painfully; well, at least her fanny pack had somewhat mitigated the damage.

Though not exactly the most acute in emotional issues (ironically, only those regarding herself), May was quite tuned into her physical surroundings. And though they were inside Ash's house, with a warm fire burning in the nearby furnace, and a red-cheeked Pikachu—who had somehow separated himself from his Trainer—was busy chattering away in Poketalk with May's Skitty, Brendan's Swampert, somebody's rather twitchy Meowth, and Drew's bored-looking Roselia, there was something quite wrong with the entire situation. May could've sworn that she could now see her breath.

Nobody else seemed to have noticed, though. Her brother, who was occupying one of the two chairs around the square dining table, was ultimately too interested in his book to notice; and a rather tired-looking Tracey Sketchit occupied the other chair, busy sketching Pikachu, Swampert, Meowth, and Roselia. Drew and Brendan were too into their stupid staring contest to care for anything other than the other's unblinking eyes.

Not the most subtle of persons, May decided it was time to pipe up.

"Hey! I'm cold!" She said loudly. Pikachu stopped in his vociferous narration of some story or other of his journey across the four regions to eye the irritable brunette. The twitchy Meowth twitched. Max didn't glance up from his book—May noted that it was something about Pokemon abilities; well, it _was _typical of her brother. Tracey didn't seemed to have heard May, for he was far too engrossed in his drawing—all he did that indicated he had indirectly acknowledged her declaration was his erasing of Pikachu's pose to better represent the electric mouse's current one.

To her surprise, Brendan and Drew broke off from their staring contest, though only to ask, annoyance lacing the word, at the exact same time, "What?"  
"I'm cold over here! Can I have a sweatshirt or something?" May said. She began shivering dramatically—both involuntarily and on purpose—to emphasize her point.

Brendan blinked twice, as if he didn't expect her to say that. Drew simply flipped his bangs, looking as if he didn't give a damn about her coquettish needs—the big jerk. The former perhaps understood May's needy demands a little better than the latter, and after a few moments of ogling her in perplexity, Brendan began digging around in his green backpack to find her the required article of clothing.

Out from his backpack came the oddest assortment of items May had ever seen. A pair of pliers—a bottle of UV 75 sunblock lotion—a meticulous map of the four regions—a tube of cerise lipstick—and finally, his old black sweater.

"Here you go, May," Brendan said as he handed her his sweater. May accepted it gratefully. Examining the yellow-cuffed and –collared sweatshirt, she noticed that it was exceptionally rumpled for something that belonged to Brendan, but decided that perhaps it was because he hadn't had time to iron it out. Brendan's familiar cinnamon-pine needle scent floated up from the soft fabric, and she found herself dreamily inhaling it.

Minty clouds drifted towards May's direction from Drew's hair, mixing in with Brendan's smell. She inhaled the air with even more vigor.

"Uh, May?" Brendan said, tapping her on the shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, and she was instantly jerked out of her reverie. Drew was eyeballing her with a patronizing expression which caused the pit of her stomach to bubble with hot anger. Well, she couldn't say _that _was a foreign feeling.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," She replied groggily, pulling the sweatshirt on. Noticing pleasantly that it fit quite well over her clothes—spacious enough to retain warm air inside, but not too large as to make her feel dopey—May turned to thank Brendan, and was dismayed by the fact that he and Drew were competing seriously in another 'serious' staring contest. She congratulated herself for being able to use sarcasm so aptly. "Don't you two have something better to do?"

"No," said Brendan, "I finished reviewing my Calculus textbooks."

"Yes," said Drew, too focused on the silly contest to notice that he was actually 'wasting his time' answering May, "But I have to beat Brendan first."

"Boys," May sighed again, cocking her head to one side. She didn't really want to find out who would win, and had the oddest feeling that the loser would need to be carted off to the hospital for their eyes to be examined. "Why don't you two, like, play chess or something?"

Again, to her surprise, the two complied. Brendan pulled out a chessboard from his backpack, and Drew pulled out a quarter from his purple knapsack. Boys probably would never cease to amaze May.

"Heads," said Drew.

"Tails," said Brendan.

"Winners get white," said Drew.

"I know that, _Grass Ass_," said Brendan sarcastically.

Drew frowned but flipped the quarter nonetheless. Though from where May was sitting on the floor, she couldn't see the entire thing, a disappointed groan from Brendan told her that Drew had won, although the green-haired Coordinator hadn't said anything that indicated so, but May could almost hear Drew's smug smile, if one could hear something done.

The scraping of wood on wood sounded. May repositioned herself so that she could see the chess match. She noticed somewhat embarrassingly that, in their heated rivalry, Drew and Brendan had pushed Max and Tracey off of the two chairs so that they could use the table (and the chairs). Max, May didn't really care about, but she hoped that Tracey wouldn't mind so much since she didn't know him all that well. Fortunately for her, the Pokemon Watcher was too preoccupied with drawing Pikachu and co. to notice, and with another glance, May noted that Max hadn't put down his book, either.

The game commenced so quickly and moved at such a rapid pace that May had difficulty following along. She remembered her father explaining the basics of chess to her and Brendan when she was six or seven and Wally was away at the hospital for some thing or another, though May recalled that at the time, while Brendan was listening intently, she was busy painting her fingernails (with Brendan's pink nail polish, no less.) May then noticed it.

The double-paned glass windows, tainted an orange-red with the sunlight. . . was _misting._

———

Ashton Red Ketchum blinked. His eyes couldn't be playing tricks on him, could they? Did he just see his breath?

He was suddenly aware that the air around him was actually quite cold. Of course, he hadn't noticed this before, since he had been too busy listening to Gary giving a play-by-play account of his battle with Paul. But now that the auburn-haired researcher had paused to take a breath, muscular figure silhouetted handsomely against setting sun, Ash could finally turn his attention to his surroundings.

Dawn and her friends, who had been discussing appeal combinations, stopped in their conference. A grave silence ensued, and, fearing the worse, Ash allowed his obsidian gaze to flit around himself.

The grass, once a bright shade of green, had turned to a deadened-looking blue-gray. Flowers wilted and crumpled on the ground within seconds. A thin sheet of frost had spread across the ground, and for as far as Ash could see, the grassy field had transformed into a mass of white. Weird. He turned to look up at Gary, wanting to ask him a question.

At the sight of the auburn-haired teenager's stricken expression, however, Ash stopped. He had never seen Gary look so baffled before, save that one time Ash had suddenly declared in kindergarten that he liked rainbows and Pikachu's. Ash didn't have much time to mull over complicated things such as what Gary might be thinking and feeling, mostly owing to the fact that it was getting extremely cold. He could barely feel his toes.

"We should probably head inside, right?" Ash suggested timidly, attempting to make his scratchy boyish voice confident. Needless to say, he failed. Everyone turned and stared at him; it was clear that they wanted to stay and see what would happen next.

They didn't have long to wait. Not twenty seconds after Ash had spoken—and nobody spoke after that—did storm clouds, crackling with what was undoubtedly electricity, gray and ominous, begin to form in the sky. Ash wanted to say something, but he found his throat inexplicably dry. Everyone else was far too enraptured in the incredible events that were unfolding before their very eyes to talk.

But instead of lightning, or even rain, it was _hail _that poured from the pregnant clouds.

_Hail._

Jagged ice spheres the size of baseballs exploded out of the skies, pummeling the ground and creating foot-wide dents in the field, blasting apart with a nasty 'shreee' sound that sounded very much like claws on a chalkboard and sending sharp shards flying all over the air. Almost instantaneously, everyone suddenly began to move. Panicked shouts arose from the crowd which was now a mob, and Ash found himself abruptly separated from his friends.

And as if from far away, a shrill, blood-curling screech boomed across the heavens.

Ash blinked. He couldn't have just heard a Pokemon's cry, could he? It was by far too loud and high-pitched to be any Pokemon that _he _knew of. Unfortunately for Ash, he didn't have to wait very long to find out.

The huge, monstrous emerald body of a flying serpentine Pokemon burst out of a large cloud. Mouth unhinged, he—she—it let out another piercing, sharp screech, and the amount of hail instantly doubled. Though Ash knew that he was in imminent danger, he stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, as everyone rushed past him, leaving him the only one—the only one—standing on the now empty field. The shrieking of the crowd grew fainter and fainter as the stampede of people drew away.

He was helpless—completely helpless—and the only thing he could do was watch as the enormous dragon streak over his head and turn one of its luminous yellow eyes to maliciously survey him—

"Ash! You idiot! What are you doing, just standing there?! Do you _want _to die?! For the love of Moltres, get a _move _on!"

At the sound of Gary's deep albeit slightly nasal voice, Ash turned. He must have looked like a complete dope, just standing there, awaiting his doom like an obedient dog. The auburn-haired researcher was beckoning to him, and when Ash did not—could not—move, Gary lunged forward and grabbed him by the elbow, darting backwards with astonishing speed and running away—grabbing Ash—running away—

Ash bent to Gary's will and began pelting, flat-out, away, away, away—with Gary by his side. Shortly after thinking that, Ash felt stronger, and began running forward with more vigor, as if the thought of the person next to him fuelled his desire to escape. Perhaps it was simply childish rivalry—perhaps it was the acceptance of the knowledge that he was going to die if he did not get out of there fast—or perhaps it was something more. . . needless to say, it was the least of his worries.

What mattered was getting out of there.

———

Jimmy Gold Tekan yelped and jumped back a good foot as an ice ball shattered the double-paned window and blasted apart on the wooden floor.

The others around him immediately blanched. Pikachu stopped talking altogether, and the Meowth stopped twitching. Brendan's Swampert growled—the sound low and foreboding, and perfectly suited to the deadly bizarreness of their situation, the beat of drums to war.

"Oh. My. _ARCEUS._" Brendan whispered.

Through the hole in the window that the hail-ball had created, Jimmy and everyone else could clearly see the horrific scene unfolding before their eyes. A terrified wave of people, interspersed with a smaller amount of Pokemon, charged in their direction. They were not three hundred yards away, and they were getting closer every half-second. Although the group was inside the Ketchums' house, Jimmy didn't think that the mob was incapable of sweeping away the entire building.

Doing some quick calculations in his head, Jimmy figured that the people would overcome them in less than ten seconds. He immediately began saying his prayers.

"We need to get out of here _now_," Brendan said. The urgency in his voice immediately started the others out of their still postures, and even Drew lowered his dignity to comply with Brendan's order. Two beams of red lights later, Brendan had opened the door and was ushering everyone outside. The Meowth and Pikachu bounded outside without hesitation, sparks flaring wildly from the latter's cheeks.

Jimmy was far too shocked to do anything except get herded out of the house; all the while, he admired the white-haired Trainer's finesse. He didn't know if he himself possessed such leadership abilities. He didn't have any time, either, to dwell on these unconfident thoughts as the stampeding mob engulfed him.

Staggering as the people around him pushed and shoved and jostled in a mad flee for their lives, Jimmy remained steady—perhaps not calm, but definitely steady. One word, and one word only, pounded in his head, through his veins, echoing in his ears.

_Marina._

———

Turquoise shrieked as she was shoved by some person or other onto the ground. Her bare knees scraped the grass, and blood smeared all across her blue T-shirt as she landed, face-first, onto the ground.

Yelping in pain, she pushed herself up again—spinning around wildly as someone else hit her jutted-out elbows—and fell down again. Despite herself, some fashion-sensitive part of the brown-haired girl thought that she must have looked like a complete idiot, a girl of six feet flailing about in a shorter crowd looking utterly helpless. A hot, sticky liquid trickled out of her nostrils.

She lifted one white-gloved hand to her nose, which felt oddly crooked, and as she drew her hand away from her face she noticed with disgust and horror that the warm substance she had felt was her blood. Oh, great. On top of the frenzy, it now looked as if Turquoise had broken her perfect nose, or at the very least she was suffering a bad nosebleed.

Tears mixed with blood as Turquoise began to cry. The combination of body fluids dripped into her open mouth, smearing her lipstick and dripping onto her toungue. It tasted both like the salty, sea-water of her tears and the metallic tang of her blood.

For the second time since she came back to Pallet Town, Turquoise felt pathetic again.

She couldn't help herself—couldn't even think straight. Everyone whirled past her in a blur that mirrored the mixed emotions swirling inside her stomach—pain, guilt, shame, embarrassment, desperation. . . For the first time in her messed-up life, Turquoise wondered if she was going to die.

Just after she thought these dark words, strong, bare hands unexpectedly grabbed her waist and lifted her into the air, at least a good foot above the crowd. Surprised, Turquoise ignored the fact that her panties might be exposed to the world for all to see and tried to look down to see who it was that was rescuing her in such a manner. Was it the (rich) auburn-haired son of Professor Oak whom she had been trying to seduce all day?

No, it was someone with a mass of silky red hair.

———

Marina Crystal Clearwater carefully maneuvered herself through the panicking crowd.

Though it may not seem like it, the blue-haired girl was quite used to frenzied mobs like these. She had experienced enough for one lifetime, at least, though where she would never tell anyone. Presently, her primary concern was making sure that nobody unexpectedly hit her backside and upset the fragile balance she had created. Yet another part of her brain throbbed with guilt—she should be looking for Silver, she should be looking for. . . Jimmy.

Her heartbeat quickened. _Where was Jimmy?_

Panic consumed her, and all she could think was her black-haired baseball cap-wearing friend and his goofy, optimistic smile. Suicune, she needed to find him. . . she needed to find him NOW. Unfortunately, panic and collectivity did not mix, and soon Marina was another raving member of the crowd, though the one word stamped in red across her mind was not 'run'.

By coincidence—or was it luck? Was it fate?—Marina bumped into Jimmy.

"_Jimmy!_" She cried, just as Jimmy cried "_Marina!_"

"Where were you?!"

"I was so worried!"  
"We have to get out of here now!"

"Where's Silver?"

"Where's Silver?"

The two friends stopped as they realized that they asked each other the exact same question. Shit. Silver. Silver. Silver. Jimmy's hot friend. Silver. Was. Gone.

Double shit.

Jimmy's facial expression rapidly transfigured into one of total disbelief and shock. Knowing Jimmy, Marina assumed that they would now have to spend the rest of their time in Pallet Town searching for the redhead until they found him; and, knowing Jimmy, Marina knew that Jimmy would not realize that he was both jeopardizing his—and her—lives.

"Good Entei! Silver's a big boy, he can take care of himself!" Jimmy unexpectedly declared. His voice was barely audible above the congruous roar of the crowd. Marina stared—'honorable', 'traditional' Jimmy had been replaced by 'logic' and 'self-concern'. "If I know Silver, he's already left Pallet Town and he's already a good mile away! We should be more concerned about _our _asses!"

"You're right. Let's get the hell_ out of_ here." Marina jerked her hand toward the direction of her Pokeball belt.

———

Tyson Haste, naturally fast, easily rushed past the front line of the stampeding crowd.

As of the moment, he was concerned with running out of Pallet Town as fast as possible. Even as he ran, buildings to the right and left of him exploded in splinters as ice balls—now easily surpassing the sizes of cantaloupes—and unfortunate people hit by the hail collapsed on the ground, the more unfortunate of these getting run over by the others, trampled into oblivion within seconds.

It was no laughing matter. It was life or death.

Abruptly, he stopped in his run, which was probably not a good idea. His slight body was easily pushed around, but Tyson didn't care. He was fleeing like a coward, and he had forgotten completely about Kenny, Lucas—who Tyson still had no idea where he went—Zoey. . . and Dawn.

With steely determination, the boy pivoted 180 degrees. Though not a difficult action under normal circumstances, under the pressure of the rushing crowd, Tyson felt fully justified in taking a long while to turn around. Sweat beaded his cherry-red forehead, dripping from his curly straw-colored hair onto the tip of his nose and chin. _Come on now. . ._

At last, when he was facing the opposite of where he had been running, Tyson swiftly grabbed a Pokeball from his brown bag, which was conveniently located next to his hip, and flung out his Rapidash. The Fire Horse Pokemon appeared in a raucous burst of red light. Her vermillion flames seemed to sparkle with solicitousness as she bent her long neck to lightly dab her warm nose on Tyson's forehead, as if asking 'what's wrong?'

"No time to speak, Rapidash! You gotta let me ride you!" Tyson said, waving an impatient hand. The fire-typed Pokemon hesitated for a split second—a proud beast at best, Rapidash paused to consider whether or not the exigency in Tyson's voice was worth the demolition of her pride—but ultimately decided to allow him onto her back.

Tyson quickly leapt onto the tall Pokemon's back, fueled by his usual bounciness and his rush of much-needed adrenaline, ignoring his Rapidash's flaming mane as the Pokemon's fire didn't hurt him. Luckily for Tyson and the Pokemon, Rapidash's fire was off-putting enough to most people around him that they consciously avoided them—Tyson didn't want to scorch people unless it was necessary.

"Find Dawn!" Was the only command that Tyson gave. The Fire Horse whinnied obediently in reply and began dashing through the crowd, employing her excellent sense of smell and hearing—thought he latter would probably not assist them much in the horrible din—to fulfill her master's wishes.

———

Garrison Blue-Green Oak pulled to a stop. Ash, who was some meters in front of himself, did the same.

He felt Ash's concerned gaze sweep over his shuddering back, and felt the chilly air around himself warm ever so slightly as the black-haired Trainer pulled closer. "What's wrong, Gary? We have to get going before—well, whatever _that _is—gets closer!"

Gary, still breathing heavily, lifted his aching body just high enough to make contact with Ash's worried-looking eyes.

"Look. At. The. Sky," Gary said, pronouncing each syllable with distinction. It was hard to him to articulate his words when he was practically out of breath, but the auburn-haired teen managed to do so, and Ash caught on with uncharacteristic speed.

Flanked on either side of the huge dragon were two bird-like figures—perhaps smaller, but emanating equally powerful auras. One was yellow and physique rather chunky—the other a cream; brilliant flames were flowing from the latter's wings and head.

"Gary. . . let's get out of here," Ash murmured, tugging at Gary's hand. The auburn-haired researcher lurched at the contact—Ash's hand was unexpectedly warm—but only readily complied.

Had they stayed any longer, they would have noticed the sleek black helicopters—bold red 'R's emblazoned on either side of the planes—follow the three Pokemon.

———

Brendan Ruby Birch gulped as he tightened his already firm grip on May's gloved hand. His brown-haired friend's usually bubbly-expressional face had given way to a twisted look of absolute terror. It was all Brendan could do to prevent her from slipping away from him in the midst of the crazed crowd.

"May! Where are you going?!" Brendan yelled over the discordant roar of the stampede as he felt voluntary tugging from May. No. . . she couldn't possibly be wanting to leave, could she?

The brunette turned her head to eye Brendan for a few moments. He braced himself as he waited for her explanation, which came in due time. "Brendan! Drew's _gone_!"

"What?" Brendan yelled again. He felt pleasantly surprised at the news, but did his best to prevent it from showing. A moment later, he felt sick with himself. Simply because of his and Drew's rivalry, Brendan was wishing him death? Lost by yourself in an uncaring, selfish crowd like this could easily cause accidental injuries, and in some cases, even induced comas or death.

"We have to find him!" Came May's pleading cry. "Please, Brendan!"

He didn't need another reason. Quickly unclipping his Dragonite's Pokeball, he sent out the Dragon and waited for his Pokemon to fully form. But in her haste, May had forgotten about her brother.

———

Andrew Rosalind stumbled through the crowd.

He felt like an idiot for relaxing his grip on May's hand; a feeling, which, if you knew Drew well, very rarely came to him.

Great; Drew's Pokeballs were in his knapsack, and if he paused to send out his Flygon, there was a high possibility that he would be hit by the crowd before he managed to do so, which, despite the absurdity of such a suggestion, could potentially be fatal, not to mention the gigantic ice balls that were thundering down from the skies.

Shame burned inside of the green-haired Coordinator as he thought of just how useless he was. If May and Brendan were still looking for him. . . and if they found him like this, lost without a clue of how to get back. . . embarrassment and guilt tripled inside of Drew, though he highly doubted the latter would even bother to assist him. Drew was unsure whether he would come to Brendan's rescue had the roles been swapped.

Fortunately for him, he was proven wrong in his last assumption. Not three seconds after he had thought that, did the conspicuous and steady wing beats of a large Pokemon sound somewhere above him. People immediately began backing away from Drew, and he looked upwards to see what was causing the helpful distraction.

Drew recognized the bulky figure of Brendan's Dragonite quite well. He quickly leapt backwards a foot to clear space for the Pokemon to land, and saw that both Brendan and May were sitting atop the orange Dragon. His insides clenched as he saw that May had her arms wrapped around Brendan—and he desperately wished that this was because she had to do so to avoid falling off.

He must have stood there, staring at May 'hugging' Brendan for a few seconds too long, for Brendan's snappy cynical voice eventually penetrated Drew's stupor. "Hey, Grass Ass! Hop on, or do you want to be trampled flat?"

Snapping out of his temporary daze, Drew hastily clambered onto the Dragonite's lowered back, gladly noticing that the Pokemon's orange scales were warm despite the cold weather. With a contented snort, the Dragonite beat her wings again and began spiraling upwards, Drew's extra weight compensated for by the cooperative upwind caused by the hailstorm.

Hesitantly, Drew wrapped his arm around May's midriff. She fidgeted slightly but gave no other indication that she felt his contact. Slowly but surely, Drew moved closer to May, shuddering with satisfaction as her heat flowed up his cold and thinly-garbed arms.

Several minutes—or it could have been hours, as Drew was completely content with his current position—passed, and Drew dared himself to look down. Gulping, he noticed that they were now flying over water—sparkling scarlet water, so reminiscent of blood—though he noticed with opposite pleasure that the temperature had risen considerably. He vaguely wondered what had caused the sudden decrease in temperature back in Pallet Town.

"Shit!" Brendan cursed after another minute of steady flight, a meter in front of Drew. "Dradra's not used to carrying so many people! We're going down!"

May gave a girly yelp as the Dragonite's body racked unstably and quickly began to descend, dropping towards the ground. Drew felt his heart leap up to his throat—the experience itself was not too different from a roller-coaster ride—except that a roller coaster usually did not end in getting oneself drowned in the sea.

"Shit shit shit!" Brendan continually cursed. Drew could almost hear the cogs turn in Brendan's usually sharp mind, trying to find a way out of here.

If only Drew could reach his Flygon's Pokeball—but if he let go of May now Drew would surely fly off of the Dragonite—

When all hope seemed truly lost, a sparse archipelago of green islands appeared underneath the Dragonite. Drew's emerald eyes widened in hope; if only the Pokemon could land on one of the islands, then perhaps they weren't doomed—

Brendan obviously had seen the group of islands as well; though May's frequent shrieks indicated that she had not. "Okay, Dradra!" The albino yelled. His spiky silver hair, Drew could see, was streaking all over his face and must have been obscuring his vision to a reckonable degree. Despite his intense dislike of Brendan, Drew had to admire his nerve. "Try to land on one of those islands!"

The Dragonite gave an almost incoherent grunt and, seemingly with great strain, veered to the right to position herself for landing. May stopped shrieking, and all that Drew could hear for the next ten seconds was the pounding of his blood inside his ears and the deafening scream of the wind as they cut through the sky—

Drew could feel the ocean spraying up to meet his knees—they were now skimming across the sea—if Dragonite miscalculated a single move, they would go crashing into the water—doing some quick calculations, Drew realized that they were at least ten, twenty miles, perhaps even fifty, off the coast of Pallet Town harbor—and yet, all this time, the island neared—

Two meters—one meters—one inch—half an inch—

The Dragon Pokemon crash-landed into the creamy-colored beach of the island. Sand flied up, and Drew had to shut his eyes so that he would not be blinded by the particles. The green-haired Coordinator relinquished his grip on May's waist to steady the swirling feeling in his head and stomach.

Brendan leapt off his Dragonite, landing on the sand with a dull 'thunk', and proceeded to helping May off of Dradra. Drew's insides again clenched, this time possessively, but he decided that he didn't want to upset the person who had rescued him from the insane weather of Pallet Town—well, not _immediately_. Maybe after several minutes. The Dragonite's purple leathery wings twitched feebly before falling flat by her sides.

Completely ignoring Drew, Brendan patted Dradra's large orange head matronly, muttering a near-silent apology in the Dragon's ears, and raised the Dragonite's Pokeball to return her. Hurriedly, Drew leapt off of the Dragonite just in time as she was sucked back inside her spherical container.

A silence passed. May, as if realizing something very important, suddenly piped up, "What about Max?"

———

Brock Slate panted as he led himself and Misty into the outskirts of Pallet Town. He assumed that they would be safe there, away from the mad crowd.

The orange-haired girl, also panting, doubled over, her hands, beaded in sweat, placed on her knees as she struggled to regain her composure. Brock beat her to the punch, however, and managed to straighten up, though he was still breathing heavily.

"Well, Brock, what do we do now?" Misty said shortly after she had recovered, her cerulean-turquoise eyes focused intently on Brock's dark face.

"I—I guess we should start looking for Ash or someone else at least," Brock stuttered. Despite himself, he had just noticed how beautiful Misty was, when she was standing like that, her resolute determination practically pouring off of her. Misty must have realized that Brock was staring at her in a way that made her uncomfortable, as she swatted him (lightly, thankfully) across the back.

"Yes, we probably should," She said. Brock nodded and they began wandering around the wild growth of the first route, calling out Ash's name at random intervals.

Sure enough, after a few moments someone stumbled out from a bush. Brock's muscles tensed and he quickly averted his slanted eyes to look at the new arrival, who was, if his memory did not fail him, Wally, the green-blonde friend of May. A Gardevoir was by the frail-looking boy's side, distrusting green eyes flicking over him and Misty. Brock had the sudden feeling that they were being X-rayed.

"Hey, you're Wally, aren't you?" Misty asked, barging straight up to the boy, disregarding the fact that a powerful psychic Pokemon was half-'guarding' him. Wally looked perturbed by her directness but nodded all the same. "Good. Tell me, have you seen Ash anyw—?"

She didn't have a chance to finish her sentence. Max had burst out of yet another bush; scratches were all over his clothes and exposed skin, and he bore a perpetually frightened expression that did not suit his systematic character.

"Max!" Brock exclaimed, walking over to the blue-haired boy. Max looked towards Brock, and upon noticing that Brock was someone that he knew well, seemed to relax slightly. "What brings you here? Wait, where's May?" Pausing, he looked around. "And Drew? And Brandon or something, her white-haired friend?"

"They're gone," Max squeaked, fear glazing his onyx-black eyes. "I saw them. They left on Brendan's Dragonite."

"What? Impossible," Brock said, surprised that May would so easily ditch her brother. Though they didn't quite get along, he could hardly believe that she actually deserted Max so casually; well, as put by Max, at least. "May wouldn't do such a thing. I think that she must have been going to get help, or something."

"Maybe," Max said dubiously.

Wally's Gardevoir made a sudden movement. Brock, Misty, Max, and Wally looked towards the Embrace Pokemon, who had began making complex hand gestures with both arms, as if trying to create something that the four humans could not yet see. Her eyes were shut tight in concentration, and rather slowly, a shimmering green-blue circular shield had formed around the five.

"Wha—?" Misty asked in confusion. Obviously, she had never seen such a phenomenon, and Brock assumed that the fact that she was suddenly trapped in a protective sphere was unnerving; but he knew quite well what the move the Gardevoir was using was. Evidently, so did Max, because he immediately launched into a complicated definition.

"Wally's Gardevoir is using a special form of 'Light Screen,'" He explained fervently, "Which, as we all should know, is a protective move a Pokemon can use to defect another attacking Pokemon's moves. However, this particular version of 'Light Screen' blocks not only Pokemon attacks but basically anything that attempts to enter inside the sphere. If done correctly and if the Pokemon utilizing the move is strong enough, it can protect whatever is inside it even from the worst explosions."

"Oh," said Misty, somewhat dumbly.

Wally stirred restlessly, and Brock eyed him questioningly. "You okay there?" The breeder asked, laying a hand on the yellow-green haired boy's shoulder.

He didn't get a chance to answer. A high-pitched screech sounded from the skies, and as Brock looked up, his mouth widened in horror and he released a silent scream.

**Author's Notes:**

**As you can see, the story takes a **_**much **_**darker turn in this chapter. It was kind of hard writing the 'angry crowd' scenes, since I haven't had much experience with them, but I hope that they turned out all right and managed to portray the aura I wanted to convey.**

**Whatever will happen to the other people I haven't mentioned yet?! And what of Brock, Misty, Max, and Wally?! I hope that you want to find out, because I sure as hell am sick of typing all this. It's almost _twenty _pages on Word, so you'd BETTER HAVE LIKED this chapter, because I freaking _slaved _over it.**

**And from now on, I will work ensure that an update won't take so long. . . but given the monstrous length of this chapter, perhaps you can spare me the angry reviews?**

**Speaking of which, I'd really like it if you do review. They 'fuel' me as an author, and if you write fics yourself, you'll probably know what I mean. Though I hate to admit it, but the review number does influence the frequency of the updates, and besides, how hard can it be to click on the little rectangular blue button that reads 'go'?**


	9. Shadows

**Natural Disturbances  
**by Galbinus

Quite a few things have happened since I've last updated this story. . . One of them, you may notice, is my change of pseudonym, which I hope doesn't appall you all too much. Many thank to Daydreamer Gal for her beta'ing work on this piece.

No more time and date dividers until our heroes near the end. . . which is very far away from this time. (this fic probably won't end for some years. Hah.)

Nevertheless, it _is _time that I updated this story. I hope that you'll like this chapter!

**Chapter Nine: Shadows**

_Foolish humans._

_They do not understand what they are doing._

_And yet. . . they still do._

_They chain me down—use me as a tool. They know my potential, and they exploit it; they show me no admiration, no reverence that is only mandatory for that of a creature of my status—not even the usual, inherited respect from one to another as simple living being. Even now, as they use the Cloned One's psychic abilities to burst the translucent turquoise shield—how frail; like a bubble framed from fragile foam—they do not understand the consequences of their unforgiveable actions._

_Yet here I hover; powerless, unable to utilize my own abilities. What have I become? I cannot even control my own movements; the man—who I have learned thinks of himself as my master; what a ridiculous assumption; he, a mere mortal; and yet, I cannot break free of these binds—is the controller. I am the puppet and he is the puppeteer._

_I angst and I curse and I make dark vows, yet I do nothing._

_I am a fragment of my old self._

_However, I can still feel my innate power—it is burning with rage at the unforgivable acts the humans in black have committed; but it is restrained by the sapphire and ruby orbs._

_How strange. I recall two humans running in the slowly dissipating crowd beneath me with eyes so reminiscent of the all-powerful jewels. . ._

_A coincidence. It has to be. Unless. . ._

_No, that is an impossibility. The very suggestion is ludicrous; is this my usual systematic self, thinking up of such whimsical lies?_

_And yet. . . I still wonder. . ._

_Now, I glance down. The Team Rocket helicopters has descended, mostly stationary on the ground, save for their slowly rotating blades. The Gardevoir has collapsed on the floor; her ivory dress sprawled on the grassy ground, her body limp. A cold chill sweeps my serpentine body, one that I recognize all too easily; but I can't discern it from the other cold feeling. . ._

_Either the Gardevoir had been knocked out, or. . ._

_She was dead._

_But, how is the latter possible? The Others and I have made so many efforts long ago—ah, I hope that my memory is not failing me—to insure that no Pokémon would die easily in a battle of any sort. . ._

_Unless. . ._

_No. . ._

_It can't be. . ._

Rayquaza looked away to shake away his chilling thoughts; glancing down, he saw that Giovanni had tied together the four humans with a gray tape. The orange-haired girl had put up a bit of a struggle—two of the Team Rocket men had blood streaming profusely from their noses and one had a prominent bump protruding out of his head. Her rebellious actions had resulted in her being treated the worse of all four captives; Giovanni personally knocked her out by slamming the back of his briefcase into her head.

The orange-haired girl slumped to the floor, very much unconscious. Dismissively, Giovanni flicked his wrist, and two more servile Team Rocket members rushed out of the helicopter, down the ramp, and hastily drag the body of the girl back up the ramp, throwing her haphazardly into the helicopter. The other captives, a brown-skinned man, frail-looking teenager, and spectacled boy, were frozen; pure terror contorted their faces.



"Throw these three into the other helicopter," Giovanni said gruffly, snapping his fingers at the burly Team Rocket grunts holding the other three captives. The green-blonde-haired boy's eyes widened spectacularly, undoubtedly realizing that he was to be separated from his Gardevoir. At this revelation, he promptly began kicking at the two men who were dragging him away (both of whom were easily twice his weight), attempting to near the fallen Pokémon. All that he received for his efforts, which were already futile, was a sharp slap across the head that immediately rendered him unconscious.

Wisely, the other two captives decided not to struggle, though it was ostensible that the young boy was nearing the verge of tears. His pallid lips wobbled, and, unable to restrain his turbulent emotions, the boy burst into a cascade of tears. Giovanni looked at the blue-haired boy emotionlessly, before slowly and very edgily nearing him.

The boy's crying ceased as the darkly-garbed Team Rocket head stopped near his feet. Trembling furiously, he looked up, and was kicked square in the gut by Giovanni. He 'umphed' painfully, and Rayquaza saw the little muscles in his skinny arms convulse as they attempted to work his hands to near the bruise, but as the two Rocket men were holding them, he could not do so. The other conscious captive instinctively barked an angry, "Hey! He's just a kid! Don't hurt him!"

Giovanni swerved around, anger burning in his onyx eyes, and punched the dark-skinned man in the face. There was a sickening crunch. Blood burst out of his nose and began streaming profusely. Though the blow looked extremely painful, the man gave no reaction that he had been hit—undoubtedly, he did not want Giovanni to have the satisfaction of knowing that his punch had hurt him. Unfortunately for the captive, this merely made the Team Rocket leader more irate, and he pummeled his other fist into the dark-skinned man's face, then once again for good measure.

Smirking as he watched dark patches of venomous purple blossom on the man's skin, Giovanni turned to watch the whimpering boy, whose eyes were widened with fright at the sight of the other captive's badly bruised face.

"I do not have time for crybabies and cowards," Giovanni articulated coldly, elucidating his distaste for the captives. Rayquaza felt disgust turn over in his stomach—how he longed to unleash a well-deserved 'Hyper Beam' on the Team Rocket leader's back! Yet he remained hovering behind him; unable to control his own body, and just barely controlling his conscious thoughts; a slave. "Hurry up, imbeciles," Giovanni barked at the other Rockets, who grunted and dragged the three into the other helicopter.



The Team Rocket leader himself huffed importantly and promenaded towards Rayquaza. He held up the gray remote, the small spherical ruby embedded in its side glinting under the sunlight, and pressed a button on it.

Rayquaza felt his body twist to allow Giovanni to easily step onto his back—obediently without the dragon's permission. However much the legendary screamed inside his mind, his fierce objections were only his own and only audible to his inner ear. Yet. . . He could feel the ever-so-faint but definite sensation of his conscious mind slowly succumbing to Giovanni's will, against his own. . .

That was what sickened Rayquaza the most.

**Unknown Island off the Coast of Pallet Town, Unknown Time**

Brendan Ruby Birch cursed his luck for what he felt like was the twentieth time that day.

As the last scarlet rays of the sun gradually faded into the dim silvery illumination of the moonlight, so did the white-haired boy feel his already weak hope evaporate into despair. Their situation was so—despairing at its pinnacle of misery. His only means of aerial transportation was very much unconscious inside the Pokeball that was one of the six clipped onto his green belt. His companions—a May overflowing with worry for her little brother and a Drew who was as composed and stoic as ever, but surely he felt some emotion?—were no better.

"Fuck!" Brendan swore, cursing his luck for the twenty-first time. May turned to look at the black-haired teenager, too tired, scared, and worried to reprimand her friend's vulgar language. Drew gave no sign that he had heard Brendan speak at all. This was the reaction that infuriated the Birch the most.

Turning angrily towards Drew, Brendan kicked sand in the direction of the green-haired Coordinator. The fine particles showered Drew's knees, but he still gave no reaction.

Now furious, Brendan kicked the sand with even more vigor, ignoring the frightened expression that was crossing May's porcelain face. This time, the sand flew as high as Drew's face, and, snapping, the green-haired Coordinator looked swiftly towards Brendan, his upper lip curled in a vicious scowl.

"What the _hell _is it, Santa?" Drew snarled, his muscles rippling under his black sleeves. It was then that Brendan noticed how well-built the green-haired Coordinator was, as compared to Brendan's own rather lean physique; yet Grass Ass still managed to radiate a sort of felinity that, for some reason, merely enhanced his grace and fastidiousness in maneuvering himself, well, anywhere. It occurred to Brendan that this was perhaps why May, despite the numerous occasions in which Drew teased and berated her and degraded her, still looked up to Drew with 

such warm admiration and such intense fondness. This revelation merely fueled Brendan's already heavy dislike of the green-haired Coordinator.

"What the _fuck_ is your problem, Grass Ass?" Brendan said, lacing his words with as much hatred and revulsion he could muster. Drew's chartreuse eyes widened in fury; Brendan heard May 'kah!' in fear as events unraveled towards a seemingly inevitable fight. "Why the fuck do you always act like you don't care about any-fucking-thing?"

For a moment, Drew seemed to struggle with something—perhaps it was his anger attempting to override his better sense of dignity—but in the end, the latter won. Coolly, Drew flicked his bangs out of his face and replied, irritatingly fluidly, "Don't get rash, Birch. Simply because I have better control over my emotions is not a reason why you should seek a fight with me." Saying that, Drew closed his eyes, stuffed his shaking balled fists into his jeans' pockets, turned his back on Brendan and promptly walked away, stopping only when he was the size of a paper doll on the horizon.

Brendan let out a string of choice swearwords and flung himself onto the sandy ground. It was a hard enough struggle simply to prevent himself from running over to where Drew was idling and punching him where it really hurts.

"Brendan. . ." May began tentatively, seating herself next to the white-haired boy. The two syllables were heavily laden with concern, and yet Brendan ignored her. "Please don't do this, Brendan. Drew really cares; he does, I'm sure of it." Here, May glanced towards Drew. Brendan did not want to see what emotions crossed her eyes when she looked at the green-haired Coordinator, afraid of what he might witness. "He's just. . . an ass at times."

"Damn straight," Brendan muttered, cracking his knuckles out of irritability. May heaved a sigh and shook her head, muttering something despondent underneath her breath.

"Oh. . . how could this happen?" May lamented, burying her face in her gloved hands. Brendan was startled to hear the sound of choked sobbing escaping her throat, and solicitously turned to face the brown-haired Coordinator. Despite how he had acted, care was always right below any emotion Brendan Birch showed for any of his friends. "It was—just—supposed—to be a normal reunion!" A dry, rattling sob. "Then,"—Brendan patted May reassuringly on the back, and she sniffed, her tears receding somewhat—"then, that freakish hailstorm came and—and—we all—just—"

No further explanation was needed. Brendan embraced May, and she was content crying bitterly into his shoulder.



Brendan felt something slim and thorny skim his forearm before plopping, almost silently, on May's lap. It was a rose. May stopped crying and looked up. Drew was standing above the two friends, yet no emotions encompassed his stony features, although the faint spark of apology was dancing in his jade eyes. Brendan frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry, May," Drew finally said, though still in his usual monotonous drawl, after what felt like what was eons.

The last of May's tears evaporated into the salty air and she nodded, barely perceptibly, in acceptance of Drew's apology. Brendan was less certain of Drew's honesty; he simply didn't trust the guy, and Brendan was sure that Drew didn't trust him, either.

Standing up and helping May to her feet, Brendan shot Drew a glare and said loudly enough for the two to hear, "Well, I guess that we should, er, set up camp now or something."

Wiping tears out of the corners of her almond-shaped sapphire eyes, May nodded timidly and dusted her black shorts. Drew's eyebrow twitched, and Brendan perceived this to be a sign of agreement, which was a slight improvement from before. Without waiting for them to follow, Brendan took the initiative and scooped up his bag from the beach, heading towards the jungle which, by the white-haired Trainer's ballpark, made up most of the unnamed island.

"Wait! Brendan!" Came May's shrill voice. Brendan stopped in his tracks and looked around, seeing May fretfully tug at her bouncy side-bangs. He didn't know whether to frown or smile at the fact that more and more of his friend's old nervous habits were resurfacing—didn't know whether or not to frown at immaturity returning to May or smile at how cute she looked doing so. "Do you have a plan of some sort?"

Before Brendan could reply, Drew, seemingly having forgotten the apology he had made not two minutes ago and unable to restrain himself, said, "Obviously, Santa Claus does not have a clue. Should he actually possess some brains, the first thing he would have done was send out a strong Pokémon to ensure his and our personal safety."

Brendan bit back a sharp retort, then, very grudgingly and edgily, unclipped his Gallade's Pokeball from his belt and tossed it into the air. A beam of translucent red light, conspicuous amidst the terrestrial colors of greens, browns, and creams, arched from the center of the Pokeball as it opened with a hissing noise. The humanoid silhouette of the Blade Pokémon simmered gradually in solidity, and before long Ruru the Gallade was bowing to Brendan, politely addressing his Trainer with the usual, 'How may I be of service?'

It undoubtedly took naught but a mere flick of his telepathy to sense that something was horribly misplaced with the situation—_that, _Brendan mused dryly and gravely, _and the fact that _

_we are on a fucking island_. Before Brendan could gather his thoughts for a command, Ruru was displaying signs of extreme unease. Tentatively, the Gallade rubbed his celadon elbow-blades and nervously awaited Brendan's orders.

"Scan the forest," Brendan said curtly. Bowing, Ruru knitted his face into that of intense concentration. The white-haired boy considered adding 'please' as a polite afterthought, but decided against it. He did not want to appear courteous at all in front of Drew, though a part of him was wondering what May thought of his behavior. Shaking his thoughts away, Brendan turned himself into his surroundings, noting that a peculiar feeling had occurred around his upper abdomen, much like that of a flurry of soft feathers passing by.

A few moments later, Ruru ostensibly concluded his telepathic scan and straightened to his full height, an imposing six feet and half an inch taller than Brendan himself. "The rainforest appears to be relatively safe for the time being. I do sense some carnivorous presences, however, and advice you to look out for them. Also, there appears to be an abundance of well-concealed bug Pokémon, but I predict that they will not cause too much trouble." Brendan nodded slightly, both apologetically and thankfully; the gesture was so subtle that he was sure only the observant psychic Pokémon would have noticed.

"Return, Ruru," Brendan said, though he felt his words were unnecessary. Nobody commented, however, and the teenager dismissed the thought. Obediently, Ruru waited as Brendan enlarged with a click and pried open the Pokeball; a flash and a few seconds later, the Gallade had been sucked inside the capsule device.

An unnatural, eerie silent ensued. Brendan blinked and turned back to face Drew and May, the grainy sand still warm underneath his sneakers; he noticed resentfully that Drew's muscular right arm had slipped around May's neck in a protective gesture. When the green-haired teenager found Brendan staring, though, he retracted his arm and stuffed it inside his pants' pocket in a somewhat embarrassed sort of way. Vaguely, Brendan wondered if the original action had been instinctive rather than conscious.

Forcing himself to tune back into the absurdity of their situation, Brendan said, "We better get a move on. It's nightfall already; who knows what sort of nocturnal predatory Pokémon this island boasts?" Promptly, Brendan turned his back on the duo and began making his way into the forest. He then realized how stupid it was to attempt a nighttime walk in an unknown jungle.

Realizing with further irritability that he would actually have to request help from either May or, worse still, Drew, Brendan began turning around again, only to notice that May had, with stealth unlike her usual self, appeared by his side.



Wordlessly, May dug out a Pokeball from her emerald fanny pack—it hit Brendan with a pang that he had sewn May's bag a mere fortnight ago—and raised it above herself. A brilliant glow, tainted scarlet by the Pokeball's translucent red hood, expanded out of the spherical instrument and proceeded to bath everything within a four-meter radius in a red light.

"Let's go," Brendan said, and off they went.

**o o o**

Cold air!

—too cold for late spring—

Turquoise inhaled a lungful of air, but it felt like she was inhaling the gaseous state of dry ice. Everything before her appeared to be a blur. Dazzled, the girl blinked twice and slowly her eyesight began sharpening to its usual attentiveness.

It was then that Turquoise was aware of hushed whispers resounding over her; her ears, however, received the conversation rather jarringly, and it took another half minute for them to become distinct enough for the girl to understand the words.

"She's awake!" A husky, low voice exclaimed with vociferousness and energy that should not have been prevalent in its usual monotonous drone. Turquoise blinked again and saw that, in addition to a couple of anonymous Pallet Town residents, a very attractive adolescent boy was hunched over her, scrutinizing her face with alarming solicitousness. His long crimson hair draped down on her, tips of which lightly dusted Turquoise's high cheekbones, sending an odd tingling feeling down her spine.

Despite these subtle and not necessarily intended flirtatious actions, Turquoise could not feel her heart being pulled to a state more advanced than purely platonic appreciation. It was strange.

Struggling, Turquoise attempted to pull herself to her feet, and found that she could only manage to sit up, and then, only just. She then noticed that she was still garbed in her blue T-shirt and her red skirt, though the latter article of clothing was concealed by a heavy woolen blanket. The red-haired boy jumped stupendously and hurried to Turquoise's side; then, as if realizing that he were revealing such care for her, scrambled back to his old position with surprising speed, wearing an abashed expression.

Despite herself, Turquoise managed to chuckle for a few moments—unfortunately, she found that the action hurt her throat and her laughter came out as hoarse coughs. The red-haired boy, unhesitant as ever, pounded her on the back, applying just the appropriate amount of pressure 

and soothing her coughing by striking just the right section on her back. Turquoise frowned for a split second; how could this boy know just where to hit to cure her of her cough?

Nevertheless, her wheezing ceased quickly. Turquoise managed a coy smile at the red-haired boy, who blushed at her small gesture; the Trainer was finding it a bit overwhelming how readily he was to assist her and how humbled her appeared by her thanks. She could not even remember the boy's name, apart from the fact that he was, from Johto—or was it Kanto? Turquoise could not quite recall. Then again, there was something familiar about that dimple in his right cheek. . .

Turquoise took it to examining her surroundings. She noticed that she appeared to be inside a house of some sort; then, with a deadening feeling in the pit of her stomach, noted that the roof had been torn clean off. There were deep gouges in the wooden walls that looked like they were caused by impact. Recalling the bizarre—though 'freak' would have been a more appropriate word choice—hail storm, Turquoise wondered if the ice pellets could have caused such extensive damage to the housing.

Looking towards the three windows that remained intact—the last one had been shattered—Turquoise noted that snow still coated the glass; she could not see outside of it.

"Are you—all right?" The red-haired boy asked suddenly; Turquoise looked towards him, noticing that his silver eyes were effusive with concern.

"Yeah," Turquoise said, ending her response with another cough. "I'm all right." She added, coughing after each word, heavily dismayed that her health condition had reduced her to monosyllabic speech. Despite her inclination to coughing, though, the rest of her body felt relatively limber and she pulled herself out of her bed.

The Pallet Town residents backed off to give Turquoise space to balance. She stepped about on the wooden floor experimentally, accidentally treading over a sharp splinter in the wooden floor and suppressing a wince, not wanting to trigger another almost sibling-like response from the red-haired teenager.

"Um, you saved my life, right?" Turquoise said, reverting to her usual terse speech as soon as some of her health returned.

"Yes," The teenager admitted, somewhat embarrassingly, a faint flush gracing his pale features.

"Hope you don't mind me asking, but why?" Turquoise continued, hoping that she did not sound offensive.



The silver-eyed boy exhaled deeply, as if preparing to jump head-first in a turbulent morass of sorts. Seeing the boy enter a state of such apprehension, Turquoise mimicked his actions and her breath caught in her throat.

"I think. . . I think I know you."

"What?" Turquoise said, blurting out the first thing that came to her mind.

"I think you are my sister."

**Unknown Island off the Coast of Pallet Town, Unknown Time**

Maybelline Sapphire Maple awkwardly cleared a small space in the ground as the sylvan setting around her plunged into nightfall.

Finding it difficult to navigate, despite her almost perfect eyesight, she bumped twice into Brendan and Drew, and apologized quietly but empathetically, as both seemed to be in rather volatile tempers. Having seen both teenagers' angered sides, she had no desire to ignite such fury nor spark a physical altercation.

Nighttime sounds were all around the trio and their small camp. May could not identify the individual Pokémon, possessors of the voices, but she wagered that most of them were of aerial genes, and all nocturnal Pokémon. Occasionally she would hear a scampering in the bushes of feet that belonged to a small creature. Nothing was exceptionally intimidating yet she could not help feeling fearful.

Her Eevee, which May had sent out earlier, too lost her usual sense of bubbly deviousness. Curled in a ball in May's lap, the fox-like feline shivered perennially and tremors constantly shook her brown fur. May felt a bit guilty that she was so selfishly sending out her Pokémon for comfort, but the feeling of a warm body against her own soothed her nerves so much that she had no space for being considerate.

"May, you're not going to be cold or anything, are you?" Brendan's concerned voice wafted over from the fire he had started with the assistance of May's Blaziken and some moderation of the flames by his Milotic. May heaved an internal sigh of relief, glad that Brendan had seemingly entirely forgotten his argument with Drew and the lack of immediate side she had taken.

"No, thanks," May said, a small smile brightening her dreary mood. However, with the realization that Brendan was no longer angry, her train of thought switched tracks and moved in the direction of the extremely disconcerting thought of how her little brother was faring.



Despite the fact that she may not have shown it all the time, May cared genuinely for Max, and it was only with all the self-control she had slowly accumulated over her fourteen years could she prevent herself from not completely breaking down. Mentally, she lamented and cursed her rotten luck. She was so confused; everything had happened just so damn fast!

A movement on her right told that Drew was, too, preparing to go to sleep. She spared the green-haired Coordinator an oblique glance, noticing that his usual impassive expression was tainted with worry. May wondered what Drew was feeling at the time. From the few insights he shared with her about his childhood and experiences outside of the Contests and two Grand Festivals they had met, she inferred that his upbringing was leisurely, a pleasant experience. He undoubtedly came from an affluent household.

Not noticing May looking at him, Drew flounced a hand through his bangs, shut his eyes, and, green hair falling over his silky eyebrows, began to drowse off. May stared at Drew for a little while, admiring his perfectly-formed features and the slowing up and down heaving of his chest. He had not said a single word. Between the green-haired character she was observing, her thoughts darted constantly between Drew, Brendan, and Max.

The rose she was holding in her hand cut into her flesh and she began bleeding, and a tear rolled down her round cheek.

Fearing that if she spoke, her voice might crack, May lay in the opposite direction as Drew and curled her legs up to her chin, hugging herself and burying her face into her knees, returning her Eevee with reluctance. After a while of silent weeping, she felt fatigue tug seductively at her and gave into her body's demands.

The last sensation May was aware of was Brendan tucking her under a piece of warm cloth, which was probably his jacket.

**Author's Notes:**

Yes, it dragged on for years and years but I finally managed to find time and enough inspiration to complete this chapter (which has been collecting dust in my hard drive since January).

You might have noticed some tweaks in terms of direction and pace (well, not really for the latter. It's been three-fourths of a year and we haven't completed a single week in terms of events yet..) For example, I have decided to establish Turquoise and Silver's relationship as sisterly and brotherly, but since this is a cliffhanger I'm not going to say what happens next.

DAMNED LOLITA I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY NOW.

-dies-

**Pokémon © Satoshi Tajiri  
Story, OCs © Galbinus  
Do not redistribute without permission**


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